


Physical Education

by candlejill



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Gore, Bottom Carl Grimes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depression, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Graphic Description, Gym Teacher Negan, High School Carl Grimes, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, One-Eyed Carl Grimes, Oral Sex, Pining, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killer Carl, Serial Killer Negan, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Swearing, Top Negan (Walking Dead), UST, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 75,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: After an accident took Carl's eye, he becomes more isolated as he learns to cope with his loss. Other kids stare at him, friends slowly stop speaking to him, even the teachers don't know how to act around him. All except one. Carl finds his gym teacher Negan to be his sole comfort.A traumatic event leaves Carl questioning what he wants from life, he soon learns to take his frustration out a different way. A violent way. With Negan's reluctant help, they form a new kind of friendship.AU - No Zombie Apocalypse





	1. Chapter 1

“How’d you get it?”

Carl looked up through his long hair. Sometimes people asked. Sometimes they just stared. He wished everyone would just leave him the hell alone.

“Kid, I know you fuckin’ heard me.”

Lifting his eyebrow in surprise, Carl answered dully, “You’re not supposed to say that.”

“I can say whatever the fuck I want.”

Tilting his head down, Carl smiled at his brash behavior.

“So, you gonna answer me or what?”

Looking around the gym, Carl tried to ignore him. Kids were assigned to different stations, volleyball, basketball, badminton, archery. He was allowed to sit out because of his injury.

“When did it happen?”

Sighing, Carl answered, “Few months ago. The beginning of summer.”

“Was it an accident? A disease?”

Turning toward his teacher, Carl replied annoyed, “I thought everyone was supposed to be briefed about it so they could leave me the hell alone.”

Negan laughed, “Shit kid, I’m just trying to get it from the horse’s mouth.” Standing up, Negan blew his whistle indicating it was time to move stations. When he sat back down next to Carl he asked, “Figured you could use the company anyway. You’re always sulking around.”

Carl sighed and picked apart the tennis ball in his hand. “My dad took me to the outdoor shooting range for some practice. There were a couple of kids hanging around, not knowing what they were doing. I guess it wasn’t really their fault but they hit a metal sign they were using for practice. Ricocheted and hit my cheekbone. Cheekbone exploded into my eye. They had to remove whatever was left of it.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Carl shrugged. It was the beginning of his senior year and beyond the most miserable of his life. It wasn’t the normal teenage bullshit, or issues with his parents (though he had those too), but he was thrown into the same world with one less eye. He was having a difficult time coping but he tried to fake it. His mom wanted him to meet with the counselor but Carl refused. He had had a few months to heal and was working on his physical therapy. He still wasn’t ready for contact sports or anything that involved intensive use of depth perception. Every gym class he sat out on the side and worked at throwing a ball against the wall. He didn’t mind it. Out of his day it was usually the least terrible. His gym teacher was cool but he could tell that when he was a kid he would have been one of the assholes that would have picked on him.

Most of his teachers just ignored him. Or ignored his eye. He didn’t blame them. He hated looking at it and kept a bandage wrapped at all times. Over the summer he had grown his hair long. Long enough to cover the wound. He couldn’t bring himself to wear an eye patch so he kept it wrapped in a bandage, hidden beneath his hair.

It didn’t freak people out as much when it was hidden behind his hair. It took longer for people to notice. But still, he kept his distance. Some friends that he had made over the years tried to keep in contact but Carl just didn’t care. He wanted to be alone.

So he was. Most of the time.

Negan (not ‘Mr. Negan’... or maybe Negan was his first name? Carl didn’t know) instructed everyone on the first day of class to call him that. Carl thought it was kind of cool. He was definitely more laid back than his other teachers, which he liked. Many of the kids thought he was the best. It was known that he’d occasionally have events outside of class that he’d invite the kids to. Carl heard it was mostly playing pool or table tennis. From what he heard, Negan could be a huge dick to anyone who tried to beat him. Carl had never gone to one of the games. He couldn’t participate and he didn’t really want to see his classmates any longer than normal.

Staying at home wasn’t an option either. On the nights when his dad was around all he heard were the muffled arguments of his parents. A year or so back he was positive they were going to get divorced. He sometimes wished they would have. Before his eye, Carl had taken to listening in on his them when they thought he wasn’t around. He found out his mom had an affair with his dad’s best friend and that was how his mom got pregnant. When they officially announced to Carl that he'd be a big brother, they left out that part.

He never understood why his dad stayed with her if she cheated. Maybe Rick knew that he had been emotionally absent and couldn’t entirely blame her. Carl knew, though, that no one was really sure who the father of the baby was. Later, Rick said it didn’t matter. Judith was his, even if she wasn’t.

After she was born things had been good for a long time. Until the accident. Lori started blaming Rick for taking him out on the range. Carl knew his dad felt guilty, like it really was his fault. All Carl tried to do was avoid his parents. The built up resentment and anger he had towards his them was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just because of his eye. He didn’t want to think about whose fault it was. It happened and it was over. He just wanted to move on.

That didn’t mean he was okay with it. He wasn’t. The initial first days of the new school year were hell. He hid beneath his hair and tried to ignore the whispers of, _“Yeah, he’s the one. You can’t see because he hides it,”_ or, _“If you look close you can see all the scars around the side. It’s like the Phantom of the Opera!”_

Carl started listening to music on his headphones anytime he was in the halls. Or lunchroom. Or anywhere near other kids.

The teachers weren’t better. Some ignored him, afraid of looking his way, not wanting him to have the attention and perhaps become a target of bullying. Other teachers went out of the way to ask him to be involved in discussions, pretending like he was normal.

Negan was the only teacher to ask directly. And he was the only one that didn’t seem to give a fuck about it. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made Carl feel normal. It was hard not to talk to him because gym class was starting to become his favorite time of the day.

“You know about my game nights, right?” Negan interrupted Carl’s intensive thoughts.

Carl nodded slightly.

“How come you never stop by?”

Carl scoffed and said sarcastically, “Maybe because I get sick of being called a disfigured freak and I don’t exactly want to make myself and even easier target for ridicule by being the worst player there?”

“You _don’t_ have to play,” Negan huffed. “Just come over. You can’t just be a moody bitch all the time. Get out and start living again.”

Carl swallowed back a lump in his throat, “When you lose an eye and jump right back into normal life, I’ll give you a call for advice.”

“I think it’s fuckin’ badass.”

He wasn’t expecting Negan to say something so blunt and especially somewhat positive. Carl eyed him over, studying his face to see if he was sincere.

“Hey, I got an idea. Why don’t you come over after school and you can try some of that stuff without an audience? Might help figuring out how to work around that depth perception issue.”

Carl took a moment to actually consider what it would be like if he showed up at Negan's. Eyeing him skeptically, Carl replied, "I should probably get home after school. Parents don't want me to take too long. They worry."

Feeling the burn on the back of his neck, Carl tried not to meet Negan's eyes. His parents didn't care where he went after school. He always told them a 'friends' house. After the accident his parents were relieved that he was still _normal_ enough to have friends. Now they couldn't see beyond their own issues. And Carl didn't want them to. He had enough of the attention right after the accident. He enjoyed the time to himself now. Mostly he went for long walks around town. He enjoyed the peace. When he pulled his hoodie up at night he didn't look different from anyone else. He could pretend he was normal.

Negan cleared his throat, "Look kid, I'm not forcing you here. Just thought you might have fun. I'll get you my address. You change your mind, stop on by. I get home around 6:00."

Nodding noncommittally, Carl politely replied, "Sure." Standing, Negan walked away from him.

Carl thought it was weird for a teacher to invite kids to his house. Every other week there was some new story about teachers taking advantage of students. He didn't get that impression from Negan but he still thought it was weird. Other kids never seemed to think so, though. He never heard any rumors about Negan being creepy. Just an asshole.

When class was finally over he walked out with Negan's address burning through his jeans pocket. He didn't know why he kept it. But that day when he left school his pocket felt heavier with its contents resting unforgotten.

The first thing he did was walk home. Trying not to dwell on the fact that he should be driving, instead, Carl walked home with his head down. He was always the first home. His dad worked late at the Sheriff's Department most of the time while his mom was usually gone, running errands or getting groceries with Judith. Carl dropped his backpack and dug out a scratch piece of paper. Scribbling some meaningless message, Carl left it out in the open on the counter. He dug around the cupboards for a snack, and something for later, then he headed out the back door as he heard his mom's car pulling in the driveway.

It was his usual routine. Avoid his parents and spend as much time alone as he could. He wandered along his usual haunts, nothing much to see around town. He would wait until dark before lurking around downtown. It was still too bright for people to spot his wound so he tried to stay in places with less traffic.

The note in his pocket scratched at his mind. He wasn't going to visit Negan but he thought there was no harm in walking by his house. Carl knew where practically everyone lived since he started roaming the streets. A lot could be told about a person by how they lived. Not where, but how. Someone living in the nicest part of town but with a neglected yard said a lot about what was happening inside. It wasn't a science but Carl soon learned about some of his classmates. Especially the ones picking on him. It’s not like he was planning on _doing_ anything to them, but he wanted to feel like he had some kind of upper hand if they took it too far. At least, it would freak them out to know that Carl was paying attention to _them_ too.

He didn't really know what to expect from Negan. His address was in an older part of town. Not bad, just older. More quaint, which made Carl smirk. He couldn't really imagine Negan living next to someone's grandma but it appeared as though he did.

It was a little after 6:00 pm by the time he had made it. He wasn't planning on actually going over, but he had been curious about it. His house was small. Didn't look much larger than a one bedroom. There was a single unattached garage on the right side. Carl kept his distance by standing down the block. Far enough away to see the place and not get caught. The lights were still dim as the sun started to go down. Not dark but at that annoying time where the sky was dull and made it hard to see. The only reason Carl liked that time was because it meant he could wander freely soon.

Negan wasn't home yet. Carl knew he should leave but he felt compelled to stay. After all, Negan had been watching him in class. Carl wanted to see what he was like outside of class. Negan had a reputation for being an atypical teacher. Even for a gym teacher. Everyone knew he was easygoing enough, but he had a temper too. There had been lots of rumors about kids pushing back too hard and Negan quickly made an example of them. So far it hadn't happened in Carl's class but he was waiting for it. Hoping to see one of the assholes in his class get taken down a notch.

Fisting his hands in his hoodie pocket, Carl was just getting ready to leave. As he turned, he heard a loud disruptive honk. He swore as he saw Negan driving his truck down the road. Carl shook his head, annoyed at himself for getting caught. He debated booking it out of there, pretending he hadn't seen him. But he knew Negan would give him shit for it next time in class.

Taking a deep breath, Carl walked over to the driveway just as Negan slammed his door shut.

"Well, hot damn! Didn't think you'd show up."

Carl shrugged, not quite knowing what to say. He didn't want to he there. He told himself if he was being forced to stay there, he’d only stay for an hour and then go.

Negan was studying him closely. In class he had been distracted by the other kids but now he felt the full gaze of Negan wash over him. It made Carl nervous. Like he was on trial and Negan had yet to decide the verdict. When he felt his face heat at the attention, he turned away in embarrassment.

"Right kid, well follow me," Negan put his hand on Carl's shoulder and guided him to the garage.

The clanking of the door opening suddenly made Carl a little curious. He was surprised to see a pool table set up in his garage. There was a dartboard on one wall and some boxes piled in a corner.

"Your wife make you keep this out here?" Carl asked.

Negan snorted, "My wife's dead."

Carl turned to meet Negan's eyes. At first he didn't know if it was a joke or not, then Negan smiled in the way that Carl knew only could mean he was serious.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Carl," Negan interrupted, "Just shut the hell up." His tone was light but Carl knew to drop the subject. "Pool or darts? No, I'm choosing. No way in hell are you ready for the table."

"You don't know what I'm capable of," Carl scoffed.

"Shit, kid, I know you sit out of every single fucking gym class to fuck around with a stupid ass tennis ball. Damn weak physical therapy if you ask me. Throw you into a boxing ring and we'll see how fast your fucking depth perception improves."

Carl was taken aback by Negan's harsh tone. There was a joking quality beneath it but mostly he was just surprised a teacher would talk to him like that. Even for Negan, it seemed to be excessive. Carl was starting to wonder if what he saw in school was already a restraint for his teacher.

Handing him the darts, Negan offered, "How about this, you like steak? When you beat me at a game of darts I'll buy you a steak dinner. Shit, I'll even make it for you myself."

Rolling his eye, Carl smirked at him, "You serious?"

"Fuck yes!"

Carl's heart warmed to the offer. He joked, "Does that mean when I lose I have to make you a steak dinner?"

"Hell, you'd probably make it well done just to spite me. You seem like a petty son of a bitch."

A laugh escaped Carl. An honest one. It felt like the first laugh in a lifetime.

"You don't have to do jack shit. Not until you're at least gettin’ them on the board. We'll talk steaks then. All right, enough bullshitting. Get those fuckers on there."

Suddenly Carl felt nervous. It wasn't the first time since adjusting to his one eye. But he felt like he had to prove himself to Negan. Prove that he wasn't as handicapped as he seemed. He positioned himself far enough away where he knew Negan wouldn’t give him shit for it. Taking a deep breath he tried to focus on where he wanted the dart to go. Exhaling, he threw it at the board, not surprised when it hit the wall next to it and fell to the floor.

Negan laughed.

Carl turned to glare at him. Then, quickly ignoring him, he rapidly fired the rest in his hands happy that at least one landed on the board.

“Hey, cool it,” Negan said. “It’s not going you be easy. You know that.”

Negan walked over in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Carl avoided him until it became too awkward. When he finally met his eyes Carl’s heart began to race. Negan reached a hand out, fingers moving towards his bandage but Carl stopped him.

“What the hell does it look like under there?”

Scoffing, Carl snarled, “You’re not going to find out.”

Smiling wide to display his dimples, Negan dropped his hands and confessed, “Damn, kid, now you’re just teasin’ me. How the hell am I supposed to look at you when I’m picturing all kinds of gruesome shit. And why the hell don’t you have an eyepatch?”

Carl sighed, “Look, I get enough of this kind of treatment from the assholes at school. I don’t need my teachers adding to it too.” He was pissed, and he made a tight fist at his side.

“Relax, kid. Jesus,” Negan handed him more darts and took a step back. “I think it’s fuckin’ radass, man. Just want to see if I’m right is all. Now throw that shit.”

Carl clenched his jaw and took aim. He didn’t know why he was there. Why the hell he’d be at his dick of a gym teacher’s house playing a round of darts. He wanted to turn the hell around and walk out of there. He was going to leave after a few more rounds.

This time when he aimed he worked on moving slightly to the side. It didn’t feel natural but he thought to hell with it. With each thunk Carl was pleasantly surprised to find that they all landed on the board that time.

“There you go!” Negan slapped him on the back. “Keep workin’ at it and you’ll get that shit figured out in no time.”

Carl retrieved the darts, intent on sharpening his aim now that he knew it could actually be improved. He lost track of time as he considered the board intently. With each throw he could see a slight improvement. Negan made conversation, mostly just talking at him. Carl didn’t mind. It was kind of a nice distraction, white noises reminding him that he wasn’t alone. And Negan seemed to like the sound of his own voice, not pushing Carl to speak much.

Eventually Negan cleared his throat, “Well kid, I’m fucking starved as hell and it’s already 8:30. I’m heading in to grab something to eat. You comin’ with?”

Pulling out his phone, Carl checked the time. He hadn’t expected it to be that late. It was odd how fast time seemed to pass once he had found a sense of balance with Negan. Clearing his throat, Carl answered, “Nah, I should probably be heading home.”

“You sure? I have plenty to go around.”

Carl couldn’t help but feel sorry for Negan. It seemed like he was lonely and just wanted the company. But it still made Carl feel uneasy that one of his teachers was being so informal with him. His stomach jumped at the idea of seeing the inside of Negan’s house but still he declined the offer.

“Hell, I’d offer to give you a ride home but I’m not that nice,” Negan smirked.

Smiling, Carl scratched his head. It was awkward, standing there in Negan’s garage. His teacher seemed to expect something more from him but Carl wasn’t sure why.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, “Thanks for the, you know, tips and stuff. I guess I’ll see you at school.”

“See ya, kid,” Negan waved him off.

Turning his back and walking away from the garage, Carl pushed his hands in his pockets, wondering what the hell just happened back there. It was weird to, first, think about teachers lives outside of school, and second, to spend time with them _during_ those lives. Besides the even more excessive swearing, Negan wasn’t any different from class. But something just itched in the back of Carl’s mind. It was weird. He knew it was weird. Though he still wanted to come back again another day.

Instead of heading downtown, Carl turned to walk home. The night was cool and felt good against his warm face. He was tired and just wanted to get home. It had been a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

At school, Carl had been expecting something to change between Negan and him. It didn’t. Negan was still an asshole, which Carl actually took comfort in. He didn’t ignore him, but he wasn’t easy on Carl either.

A few days after working on his aim, Carl found himself wandering over near Negan’s part of town again. And again. And again. It had quickly become something of a habit. If Negan saw him, he’d wave him over and Carl would spend more time working on his precision. Negan even let him attempt pool, which ended as well as could be expected.

Negan laughed at him but Carl didn’t mind much anymore.

He only stopped by during the weekdays. He knew Negan invited other students over on the weekends and he didn’t much care to be around them. They still looked at him weird and didn’t know how to talk to him. Carl didn’t know how to talk to _them_ either, so it suited him just fine to stay away. He started to spend more time around his house on weekends. Since he'd begun vising Negan, Carl wasn’t as compelled to isolate himself every minute of the day. Which his parents seemed pleasantly surprised about when they weren’t arguing.

Though, when he could sense a fight coming, Carl liked to take Judith for a walk. He didn’t intend for it to be morbid, but he liked to take her through the cemetery. In the past he had tried parks but he always felt like people were staring at him. In the cemetery there was an unwritten rule that if you saw anyone else you stayed out of their way. It was peaceful. A place where he could just sit and listen to the sounds of birds calling, gravel crunching underfoot, and the warmth of the sun through filtered turning leaves.

He felt at home.

While at his actual home, he hated listening to his parents. It wasn’t that he didn’t get it, he did. They were going through a lot and the accident hadn’t helped their marriage. Rick was the local sheriff and he had a town’s worth of worries to deal with, while his mom harped (rightfully so) on his lack of interest at home. Carl could see her point. Rick went through streaks, taking him out, getting to know him all over again, then diving back into work. After the accident his father had been particularly doting. Both of them had. The arguments even stopped for a while. But he knew it was just until they remembered they never actually resolved their problems.

Sometimes Carl wished they had stayed separated. He wasn’t sure of the details of what lead to Judith, but Lori had been spending a lot of time with his Dad’s partner. For a while they even sat Carl down and talked about how Rick was going to be living outside the house for a while and that didn’t mean they loved him any less- Carl tuned out the rest of the speech. But Rick wasn’t gone long. By the time he moved back in they announced that Carl would soon have a sister. He tried to ask his mom about it once but she wouldn’t talk. He still wasn’t sure if Judith was his sister or half sister though both parents assured that she was Rick's.

There were many times when he really wished they would have figured their shit out back then and just stayed separated.

But other times they would all get along. And it was nice. How things were meant to be. Carl tried to hold onto those memories. They weren’t entirely rare, just clouded over by unhappiness occasionally.

While the accident changed things temporarily, it was the only time he wished they’d go back to the normal bickering. Their _Beaver Cleaver_ life was fake. They were only getting along because they felt bad, but being fake pissed him off even more. So, even though he avoided his parents now, he felt better about their situation. They were at least back to normal. It wasn’t always peaceful but it was his version of normal.

Reluctantly, Carl had to admit that Negan was helping with that. He was a distraction that kept him focused on completing a goal. He challenged him with each visit to improve and Carl could see a notable difference. It wasn’t like his own physical therapy wasn’t doing anything, but Negan made it more interesting.

Even though Carl felt more comfortable, it was still weird to go to his gym teacher's house if he really thought about it. Carl still felt like something was off with Negan to invite students over, but he pushed the feeling down.

Negan hadn’t invited him in to his house since that first night. Carl had grown accustomed to their routine in the garage, so he was surprised when Negan extended the offer once more.

His heart raced a little at the thought of it. He didn’t know why it made him so excited, but Carl had to admit he was curious to go inside. Eventually he nodded, earning a big smile from Negan which made his heart warm. He walked outside the garage, trailing after Negan to get inside.

There were a few short steps leading into the house which led directly into the kitchen. The entry was was split with stairs on the right leading to the basement. The house was small and more than a bit dated. Carl could only guess it was built in the 1960s, and if the wood paneling was any indication, no one had ever taken any effort to modernize it.

As Negan walked around a small table to get to the fridge, Carl wandered through the doorway of the kitchen which he found led to a small living room. A TV was angled in the corner to his left with a couch on the opposite wall across it. A recliner was on the right and behind that there was a hallway leading to what he assumed were bedrooms or a bathroom.

“You like pizza?”

The voice came low over his shoulder into his ear. Carl turned and said, “Yeah, that’s fine. Whatever.”

“Have a seat,” Negan instructed.

Carl walked into the living room and sat on the far end of the couch. Negan’s house was bare, and now that he looked closer he saw a few more boxes around the living room.

Negan came back in stating, “Right, pizza will be here 30 minutes or less, else it’s fuckin’ free.”

“How long have you lived here?” Carl asked. He watched Negan sit in the recliner and take a sip of beer.

“I dunno. About a year. Why you askin’?”

“You just have a lot of boxes around.”

Sighing, he admitted, “Yeah, some of those I can’t bring myself to unpack. I had to leave when my wife died. Too many damn memories in that house, you know?”

Carl nodded sympathetically and asked, “How’d she die?” He and Negan had come a long way since their first few times throwing darts around. Carl knew he was lonely and he knew he’d never admit it. For some reason he felt the need to earn his trust. Carl actually _wanted_ to know more about him.

Negan eyed him suspiciously, “Tell you what, kid. You tell me what the hell you’re always doing wandering all the fuck around town. And what the fuck is going on at home that has you visiting my glamorous hell hole, then I’ll tell you about my wife.”

“Nothing’s going on at home," he said, scoffing with a slight smile. "My parents like to argue and I don’t like to hear it. I just want to get away, so I walk.” He shrugged, “Not exactly entertaining stuff.”

“Shit, your daddy is the goddamn sheriff of the town and you know everyone hears all that gossip. You tellin’ me there isn’t some truth to those juicy stories lurking around the Grimes’ residence? Don’t let me down here, kid.”

“You probably know more about it than me.” Smiling, Carl added, “My dad never talks to us until he realizes he hasn’t talked to us in weeks. My mom bitches at him for not spending time with us, so he stays at work late to avoid a fight. Which of course only makes it worse. I’m about 90% positive that my dad isn’t my sister’s dad and that my mom had an affair with my dad’s best friend.” Smirking he said, “That the gossip you’re looking for?”

“Hell yeah, that’s the good stuff! Shit, so your mom and your dad’s best friend? Fuck, that’s hard man. Why did he stay with her?”

Shrugging he answered, “My dad thinks it was his fault. He drove her away. I don’t know what happened with him and Shane. Shane’s not around anymore. I don’t know if he ever knew about Judith.” Carl drew a deep breath, “Like, it’s not like I even give a shit about all their drama, it’s just that they’re adults you know? My dad is the damn sheriff of the town and they can’t get their own lives together.” He shook his head, “Like just fix it and stay or let it go. I don’t know why they keep doing the same old thing. It never works.”

“Fuckin’ your dad’s best friend seems to be something new,” Negan laughed, pulling a long sip of his beer. “Besides, being an adult means jack shit except your body is decaying around your brain. You stay the same. You don’t gain any fucking sparks of wisdom that lay it all out for you. You have the same shit to deal with, over and over, and all you can do is try to enjoy life a little while it’s passing you by.”

“Is that what it was like with your wife?”

“Shit, I was the worst fuckin’ husband to her. Lucille was her name. I can’t tell you how many fuckin’ women I was sleepin’ around with. ‘Course she knew. I never hid it from her. I was the worst fuckin’ asshole,” Negan’s voice trailed off quietly.

Carl felt surprised at Negan’s short confession. He wasn’t really expecting him to open up and now Carl didn’t really think he wanted him to. He was babysitting too many adults in his life as it was. He didn’t have room for helping anyone else work through their shit.

“Somehow she still loved me. And Christ, I loved her,” he began to pick at the label on his bottle. “I loved her so goddamn much. The fuckin’ around was just sex, you know? It never meant anything. Once she was diagnosed with cancer I stopped. I was by her side. Tried to make it up to her.” Negan took a long drink and added, “I just wanted more time with her. Just a little more time. Funny thing is, since she’s been dead I haven’t been able to look at another woman like I looked at her. What’s the fuckin’ point, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sayin’ I’m a monk, far the hell from it, but there’s no one that could ever compete with Lucille.”

Carl wasn’t ready for Negan to unleash his heavy heart. It made him wonder if Negan told all the kids that visited or if Carl was special. Not that he wanted to be _special_ to Negan. He didn’t. But regardless Carl was drawn to him. He just enjoyed being near someone who wasn’t trying to sugar coat the world.

The rest of the night Negan kept the conversation light. There was still an odd uncomfortable air hanging over them, both realizing that maybe a boundary had been crossed. But Carl felt like he was beginning to understand it a bit more. Enjoy it even. He knew what he was getting when he was with Negan, even if it was weird that Negan didn’t seem to mind spending time with him.

When it was finally time for Carl to leave, stomach full of pizza and his mind feeling clear, he said goodbye and began to walk home.

It was dark. It was usually always dark now when Carl left. Once and awhile Negan actually would offer a ride but Carl thought they both knew it would be a little odd for Negan to be seen consistently dropping Carl off at his house.

So, he walked home like always. He liked the fresh crisp air and having the time to reflect on his evening at Negan’s. Sometimes he took the long way home and other times he took shortcuts through yards, depending on how eager he was to see his parents. Sometimes they questioned him about where he was and other times they barely acknowledged him. He knew they both loved him and his sister very much, but he just wished they could figure out what the hell they wanted and move on.

When he creaked open the back door to his house he heard his mom asking quietly, “You have no idea who did it?”

“No,” Rick sighed. “It was bad. That poor kid. Physically, you know, he’ll heal just fine. Enough to live. But whoever it was really went at him. Shit. It makes my blood boil. We’re working on the DNA kit now. Hopefully that will come back with some good news.”

As Carl opened the door wider, the loud groan alerted his parents of his arrival.

“Oh, thank god, Carl,” his mom ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Carl looked questioningly towards his dad who just shrugged in response.

“God, I’ve been worried sick,” Lori said brushing the hair out of his face.

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking her off. Carl walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. “What’s going on?” He looked to his dad for an answer.

Rick sighed and scratched his head, “There was an attack in town. Might be the first, might not. We don’t know.”

“An attack? Where? What happened?”

“A kid, he was about your age, a little younger. Someone jumped him and it happened behind an alley downtown.”

“Is he okay?” Carl asked.

Rick exchanged a glance with Lori before saying, “He will be.”

“You don’t know who did it?” he wondered.

“We’re workin’ real hard on that,” Rick replied.

“Carl,” Lori spoke, arms crossed and agitated, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be going out so much at night anymore. Not unless you have friends with or-”

“Mom! Jesus, I’m not a kid. I think I can handle going for a walk on my own.”

“This is not a debate, Carl,” she insisted. “You want to go for a walk? Fine. Be back before dark.”

“So, what? I can’t hang out with my friends anymore?” Carl tried not to dwell too much on how he now thought of Negan as a friend and about how angry he was at the idea of not being able to visit him.

“Is that even what you’re really doing?” Rick asked.

Carl turned towards his dad in surprise. “What the hell do you think I’m doing?”

“Lam says they’ve seen you wandering around town.”

“You have people _watching_ me?” Carl glared at him. His heart was racing and he felt sick by the betrayal that even when he was alone, he wasn’t alone.

“No,” Rick protested. “They just saw you is all. No one is spying on you.”

“Yeah Dad, I go for walks and go to my friend’s house. What else could I do in this shitty town?”

“Hey,” Lori interrupted, “Watch it.”

Carl huffed angrily, “I have to change my bandage.” He stomped upstairs to the bathroom, slamming the door as he went.

It was a weak exit but he knew when he pulled out the wound card his parents would leave him alone. He couldn’t bring himself to look into the mirror. Instead he crawled into the empty bathtub and laid down.

The only happiness or slight normality he had felt this year was his time with Negan. It was stupid and weird but it was the only place he felt he could be himself. Or at least a version of himself he thought he’d lost. Carl still wasn’t maintaining his friendships at school. Sometimes people would try, old friends he used to hang with, but Carl was bitter towards them. They ditched him right after the accident and he could understand why, until Negan had shown him that they were being assholes.

He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. The tile was cool against the back of his neck. He knew he was being immature, hiding in the bathroom, trying not to cry. But he couldn’t help it. Finally calming down, he pulled himself from the tub and went to his room, collapsing on the bed. Not even bothering to change, he fell asleep listening to the hushed tones of his parents talking in the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

When he awoke, stretching his limbs feeling his joints crack, Carl quickly remembered what his parents said the previous night. He was still angry. Some kid got roughed up and suddenly he couldn’t go outside - it was insane.

Looking over his bed to the clock he saw it was nearly noon. Carl hated weekends. He didn’t like having to go to school but on the weekends he was stuck home. And he never went to see Negan in case some of the other kids happened to be over.

Today he felt like he might change that.

After eating, showering, and dressing, Carl raided the pantry for snacks and packed his bag. Rick was at work, probably trying to figure out what happened to the kid. He saw his mom outside with Judith.

Despite his own personal wishes, he walked out to her and told her he was going out. She, of course, gave the same lecture that he needed to be back before dark. Carl rolled his eye, grumbling a disgruntled agreement, and walked off.

He pretended that he didn’t know where he was going. Carl took the long route. Despite himself, he knew he was making his way to Negan’s. Being Saturday, he probably had other students over. Carl didn’t want to get caught watching them but there was a chance Negan could be alone and he felt compelled to find out.

When he rounded the block Carl’s stomach dropped in disappointment as he saw a ping pong table set up in Negan’s driveway, complete with about half a dozen kids surrounding it. He stood still, waiting for his legs to turn him around. He couldn’t see Negan from that perspective so he slowly walked forward. When he was nearly across the street from the house, he saw him sitting inside the garage, pointing and laughing at the kid who was losing. Carl didn’t recognize any of them, so he at least had that to be thankful for.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to cross the street. As he drug himself up the driveway, Carl tried to ignore the kids staring at him. He shook his hair forward, hoping it covered his bandage.

“Shit! Carl, what the hell _you_ doin’ here?” Negan called to him, standing from his seat he smiled wide as he walked out to meet him. “Thought you were too good to fuck around with the unenlightened masses?”

Reluctantly, Carl smiled, “Home kind of sucks right now. Thought I’d go for a walk.”

“A _walk?_ Straight to my damn door, huh?” He teased.

Carl shrugged.

“You want in on a game?” Negan asked, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, just thought I’d watch,” he lifted his eyebrow as he felt Negan squeeze his shoulder.

“Sure,” Negan walked away toward the other kids.

Carl stood uncomfortably for a moment before he wandered into the garage and sat in Negan’s spot, still warm. He hung his hair low, making sure his bandage was covered from the rest of the kids. With his good eye he looked up to see if anyone was watching him. Most of the kids were busy with the game, cheering and talking shit, but he noticed one younger looking boy eyeing him suspiciously.

Ignoring him, Carl grabbed a tennis ball lying on the ground and began passing it back and forth in his hands. He could feel the burn of the kids eyes bore into him, but he fought the temptation to leave. Carl felt oddly possessive about being there. He knew kids stopped by sometime but _Carl_ was there during the _week._ Frequently. So if he was freaking out some shrimp then  _he_ could fucking leave. This was the only place he felt comfortable and he wasn’t about to give it up for some asshole kid.

Rolling the ball in the palm of his hand, Carl watched Negan approach the table. He laughed and started teasing one of the kids. The kid looked pissed. Carl thought Negan was being a bit excessive. While everyone was focused on that conversation, Carl chose to stand and sneak out of the garage. It was kind of pointless being there, but he didn’t want to go home. He walked toward Negan’s door and went in, taking in everything in the kitchen.

He knew he really shouldn’t be in there alone on a Saturday, but it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d been alone in Negan’s house. Negan told him where the extra key was to get inside while he had to stay late at work. Carl just started to feel more at home after that.

Kicking off his shoes, Carl toed his way into the living room. He was about to grab the remote for the TV when he saw Negan’s phone on the end table next to the recliner. Lowering himself quietly, Carl smiled at the soft cushion of the chair wrapping around him. He reached for Negan’s phone and was surprised to find it didn’t have a lock.

When he swiped open the screen he was greeted with was an image of whatever the hell random practically naked woman Negan found fit to live on his phone. Carl rolled his eye and continued to page through it. He didn’t have much on there. A few texts from some women, which Carl decidedly did _not_ want to read. He could imagine clearly enough what those conversations were like. Instead, curious, he opened the image gallery. After it was too late, Carl panicked, worried that he’d find pictures of Negan sexting someone. He was relieved to only see a few pictures of a woman in his phone. Clothed. One was a picture of Negan and the woman together. Carl figured it must be his wife.

Feeling a pang in his chest, Carl closed out of the gallery. He quickly tabbed open to dial a number and called his own phone. On his own cell he made a contact for Negan and entered his information into Negan’s phone. He didn’t plan on telling Negan he did it. He doubted Negan would ever look at his contacts, but it made him feel good to know there was some slight proof that Carl was in his life, as fucked up as it seemed. Carl wasn’t some random kid playing games in the garage.

He got to be in Negan’s phone. And in his house.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

Carl jumped as he heard Negan’s voice call from the kitchen. He quickly exited out of the apps and put the phone back where he found it. Standing nervously, he walked toward the kitchen to find Negan meeting him at the entry way.

“What?” Carl asked.

“I said, just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Uh,” Carl furrowed his brow, “I was going to watch TV.”

“The fuck you are.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Carl asked, anger beginning to rise. “I always hang out here. What’s your problem?”

“Fuck, Carl. You _can’t_ just walk into my house.”

“I _always_ walk into your house!”

“Yeah, when no other goddamn person is around. You know how _fucked up_ it looks, you coming into my house?”

Confused, he asked, “Don't the rest of them come in here?”

“Hell no!”

Taken aback at the confession, Carl thought for a moment. He shrugged, “I just thought it was normal. Why the hell do you let _me_ in then?”

“Kid-”

“What,” Carl interrupted, “You feel bad for the poor little disfigured kid? Think you’ll be nice and give me special treatment because I’m so pathetic?”

Laughing, Negan took a step closer, swaying his hips as he towered over Carl, “Fuck no! You _know_ you’re a badass. Just looks fuckin’ creepy as shit havin’ you walk right into my _fuckin’_ house. You know how easy those stories get started?”

Snorting a laugh, “The whole damn school knows you have kids over to your house!”

“My _garage_. Where the door is wide open and any fucker walking down the sidewalk can see what’s happening.”

“Seriously, you don’t let anyone into your house?” He asked honestly.

“Not fuckin’ students.”

Carl contemplated the new information. He couldn’t help the warmth radiate under his chest. Meeting Negan’s eyes, Carl sighed, “Sorry. I get it. I didn’t realize it was some big deal. You want me to go back out?”

Negan walked past him and sat on the couch, “Nah, you can stay. Everyone is gone.”

“Gone? Why’d they leave so early?”

“Eh, one of those kids was a fuckin’ pansy ass and couldn’t take me breakin’ his balls. They filtered out pretty quick after that.”

“So _no one_ even saw me come in here?” Carl asked.

“Hell if I know,” Negan smirked. “Doesn’t change jackshit, though. If there are _other people_ here _you_ stay the hell out of my house.”

Carl tried to bite back a smile as he nodded.

“Shit,” Negan scratched his head, “What were you gonna watch?”

Carl walked over to the couch, with remote in hand, and sat at the far end from Negan. Flipping the TV on he smiled to himself as he listened to Negan rant about whatever the hell pissed him off about the commercial airing.

* * *

Watching the sky slowly lose light, Carl began to get irritated at his parents voices ringing in his head. He knew he’d need to leave soon if he wanted to get home before dark.   
  
“Can I crash here tonight?” Carl wondered out loud.

“ _What?_ ” Negan turned his head, looking at Carl like he was insane. “Hell, no. Why the _shit_ would I let you stay _here?_ ”

Groaning, Carl answered, “I'll just sleep on the couch! My parents aren’t letting me stay out after dark because of that attack. Did you hear about that? My dad says they have no idea who it was, so now  _they_ don’t think I should be outside anymore.”

“That fuckin’ pedophile rapist _prick_? Yeah, I heard about him. I want to beat his fuckin’ skull in. I don’t blame your parents for not lettin’ you out after dark. Everyone is talkin’ about what he did.”

“Rapist? He _raped_ that kid?”

“Yeah, what the hell did you think happened?”

“I dunno,” Carl shrugged. “I just figured he got mugged or something.”

Laughing darkly, Negan grinned, “Shit kid, he raped the everliving _fuck_ out of that kid. Someone _found him_ bleedin’ out in a goddamn parking lot like used trash. And if he _wasn’t_ found he would have _died._ Rumor has it, it looked like he was fucked with a knife, ‘course that’s probably an exaggeration.”

Furrowing his brow, Carl continued, “My dad never said-”

“Yeah, you bet your ass he didn’t say one goddamn thing about what the fuck that poor kid went through. I can see why the hell they want you back before dark. If _I_ found that fuckin’ piece of shit fucker I’d force a knife into his dickhole. That’s just the goddamn warm up and _that_ ain’t no exaggeration.”

Breathing heavily, Carl watched as Negan quickly began making promises should he ever meet the man. It made Carl’s heart race to see Negan so capricious. Negan always seemed to be balancing unevenly between anger and delight, but his facetious nature made it easy to accept as a joke. Carl just thought being in a constant state of indignation is what made him happy. But this was different from blowing off steam. He had a passionate fire lit behind his eyes, which disturbed and excited Carl to witness. He was pure instability. Dynamite in a trembling hand. Carl had to admit he’d like to be there to see the carnal explosion.

“Shit kid, I didn’t freak you the fuck out tellin’ you about that guy, did I? If your daddy doesn’t find him you can bet there’ll be a hoard of pitchforks looking for that fucker.”

Carl rolled his eye, “It’s not like I’m actually a _kid_ . You _get_ that, right? They could have told me what happened. I’m not _exactly_ in danger.”

“Yeah, it’s not like you’re the kind of bastard who’d go walking through dark alleys at night all alone or some stupid bullshit like that,” Negan teased.

“Exactly.” Sighing heavily, Carl asked, “So, back to my question, can I crash here?”

Laughing, Negan replied, “Shit no.” He bit his lip and studied Carl, “What the fuck am I supposed to say when neighbors see some kid I teach taking the walk of shame out of my damn house the next day?”

“That you have boundary issues with your students and everyone knows it’s creepy as hell already.” Scoffing, Carl added, “Everyone probably already thinks  _you’re_ the rapist.”

Negan smirked, “Well look at the man sized balls on you, kid. I am many shitty things in this world, but rapist is _not_ one of them. Rapist are rats that eat other rat’s ball sacks, then shit it out, eat  _that_ shit, _then_ shit out the shit and make a fuckin’ shit castle. No, rapists are the ones that clean out the shit buckets of the dungeons in that shit castle. There is not a _thing_ lower than someone who fucks with the weak. What the fuck  _is_ that? Fuckin’ getting off on _what_ exactly? Knowing they have power as long as it’s over someone that can do fuck all back to them? _Fuck._ _That._ You and me can go hunt this fucker, Carl, and then we’ll see that dickbag’s raging hardon as I’m bending him over and punching his teeth with my fist through his asshole.”

Carl was speechless but he couldn’t help the smile that broke on his face. Negan was a fucking psychopath. Carl found it hilarious.

“You talk about dicks and balls a lot,” Carl smirked.

“When the conversation is about _goddamn_ fuckin’ rapists I think a prick or two is bound to pop the fuck up!”

“Just as long as it’s not _your_ dick that’s poppin’ up.”

“Back to the goddamn point here, _you_  even coming _into my house_ is a _huge_ fuckin’ boundary issue. You think I’m cool with this shit?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Alright, you got me there. This is fuckin’ fine, just don’t spread it around too much. But spending the night? Shit. No way in _hell._ ”

“You’re making too big of deal about it,” Carl replied, exasperated.

“Hell yes, I am. Huge fuckin’ tantrum here. I’m not changing my mind, though, so you just have to march your ass out the door and go home to daddy.”

“I’m not a kid, Negan!”

“You’re in highschool. You’re a fuckin’ kid. Nothin’ wrong with it, just the way it is.”

“You keep treating me like I need a babysitter!”

“Says the _kid_ who wants to spend the night _here_ so he doesn’t have to walk home alone in the dark!”

“I don’t give a shit about walking home in the dark! You know what, no. This is stupid, you’re right. I’m leaving.” Carl grabbed his things and zipped up his hoodie. It was still light enough out that he’d be able to make it home before it got too dark so his parents wouldn’t be too mad at him. Not that he really cared what they thought, but hearing the full extent of the assault did freak him out a little.

Just as he was about to walk out, Negan called to him, “Goddamn it, Carl. Let me give you a ride or something at least.”

Feeling rage bubbling beneath his chest, Carl insisted, “That’s a pretty big boundary issue, Negan. What would the _neighbors_ say?”

He opened the door and let it slam shut behind him as he stomped away from Negan’s house. He wanted to look back to see if Negan was watching him leave. Carl wanted to know if he would be worried if he’d make it home alright. Shaking his head, he continued to walk faster, taking the shortcut home.

* * *

It wasn’t a big accomplishment to Carl, but his parents were relieved when he made it home. The next day he was bored out of his damn mind. No homework. Old posts on all the sites. He took a long shower just for entertainment. He didn’t mind the showering so much but Carl despised the aftercare. Wiping a streak in the foggy mirror, he leaned in to try and study his wound. He could never see it quite right from up close, which he didn’t know if that was a relief or a burden. Pulling farther back, Carl leaned to an angle to view it best.

He hated that fucking wound. It consumed his face whole. The rest of him didn’t matter with the huge neon light flashing _freak_. Swallowing the hard lump in the back of his throat, he took a moment to see himself in a new light. Negan said it looked _badass_ which he had never allowed himself to consider. Everyone Carl talked to tried mollifying his unspoken fears. One thing he knew was that Negan didn’t lie to him. As each finger brushed over the bumps of thick scarred skin, he tried to ignore the voice whispering in his mind that told him he looked like a D-list monster movie creature.  
  
He tried to think of himself the way Negan saw him.

It helped a little.

Drying his hair and dressing, he was still mad as hell at Negan. Over the last several weeks he had started to actually feel part of his life. Carl didn’t know why it was so important to mean something to Negan, but it was. On his phone, he flipped through the contacts until he saw Negan’s name. He had no intention of calling it, though he hoped that at _least_ Negan had been worrying about whether he’d made it home okay.

There was a smug satisfaction burning in his chest thinking that perhaps Negan actually cared enough to worry. It was a stupid hope, but Carl wished it was eating away at Negan.   
  
He wondered if Negan thought about _him_ as much and he thought of Negan.

Carl trudged down the stairs just as he heard his mom walk in the door.

“Hey, help me out here, will ya Carl?” Lori asked holding an armful of grocery bags. “And grab the others in the car?”

Taking the bags from his mom, Carl set them on the counter then brought in the remaining groceries. He began helping her put them away, mindlessly focused on the menial task.

“Oh, Carl, I ran into your teacher at the grocery store.”

Putting soup cans into the cupboard, Carl asked, “Oh? Who?” The one good thing about not having friends was that Carl had plenty of time to work on homework. He wasn’t the best in class but good enough that his parents never harassed him about it.

“Uh, I can’t remember his name. Said he was your gym teacher?”

Freezing as he held a can in mid air, Carl said hesitantly, “Negan?”

“Yes, that’s right. Mr. Negan.”

“It’s just Negan.”

“You can’t just call him that, Carl! It’s disrespectful.”

“He tells us to! I don’t even know if Negan is his first name or last name.”

“Oh, well, he was wondering if you made it home okay last night. Everyone has been so worried with that attacker still out there. But he said you were over yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Carl said awkwardly continuing to put the can away, “He invites students over on the weekend for pool and darts and stuff.”

“Really? Isn’t that a little," she hesitated, "Odd?”

Shrugging, Carl replied defensively, “No. It’s fun.”

“Huh,” Lori shook her head, “Well, whatever keeps you out of trouble.”

“Yeah because if it’s one thing I’m known for it’s being a giant pain in the ass,” he mumbled.

“Hey now. Language.”

Rolling his eye, Carl continued to put the groceries away, with a slightly warm feeling in his stomach that Negan asked about him. He couldn’t hold back the small smile breaking at the corner of his mouth.


	4. Chapter 4

Feeling spiteful, Carl didn’t visit Negan for a several days after stomping out the last time. When Negan tried to talk to him in class, Carl behaved as a model student, complete with _yes sir_ and _no sir._ Each time he said it he could see how much drawing the line of their strictly visible boundary irritated Negan. Finally, Negan told him to cut the shit.

With that simple unspoken concession and a satisfying smirk, Carl started visiting him again.

Nothing had changed, but Carl realized that Negan’s boundaries _were_ blurred. Not just students in general but specifically with Carl. He wasn't going to ask why but the needling in his mind irritated the hell out of him. He wanted to know.

Most of the time he'd visit they’d watch TV or Carl would just listen to Negan’s rants. He was mesmerized by Negan. He was the biggest asshole Carl had ever met but he lived by his own code of ethics. Though the asshole exterior wasn’t a facade, Negan still suffered the same fears as everyone else. He _wanted_ to be liked. Not just liked but practically worshiped. And despite himself, Carl obliged him. It was more difficult not to.

Negan cut to the core of his own fears and had no problem making Carl face them. It was unnerving and intimate in a way that Carl had never been with anyone else. No one else wanted to push him that way, or maybe Carl just wouldn’t let anyone close enough to try.

“You know, you’re so fuckin’ hung up about your appearance, and fuck, kid, _I get it_. Because everything in this world is _who_ can you fuck and who wants to fuck _you_. And everyone chases the hottest ass they can get, always looking for the next upgrade. But they act like regular ass isn’t just as fan- _fuckin_ -tastic. Shit, it’s like the only thing worth living for in this fucked up world.” Negan turned to watch Carl.

Carl could feel his face burn red under Negan’s gaze. Like anyone his age, it was something Carl thought a lot about. But any time he did think about sex after the accident, he just couldn’t visualize it. Only fleeting images crossed his thoughts. Even in his mind he couldn't get beyond finding anyone that would want someone that looked like him.

“Are you a virgin?” Negan asked frankly.

Turning away, Carl tried to ignore his question.

“That’s a _‘yes.'_   Kid, trust me on this, wait as _long_ as you can. I'm serious. Once you start fuckin’ it changes your perspective on everything. Fucks with your mind and you _don’t_ need that shit.” Negan narrowed his eyes and continued, "And I don't mean it in the 'wait for your one fuckin' true love' bullshit. I mean, you have shit to get _done_ in this world, and once that fuckin' ship sails it's all you'll think about."

“I don’t think I have to worry about that any time soon,” Carl sighed.

“Fuck you, Carl. Stop that self pitying bullshit. No one wants to screw some whiny jackass, depressed about every goddamn thing in his day. Shit, kid, personality goes a fuckton farther in this world than looks ever will.” He laughed, “Alright, well, fuck it. I mean _looks_ are goddamn important, but anyone can overcome it with the right attitude.”

“You're saying my personality _and_ my face suck?”

Grinning wide, Negan answered, “Hell of a lot of people get off on a face that can give a good suck.”

Smiling, Carl wondered why they were talking about sex. He _wanted_ to be angry at him, but Negan somehow had a way of mixing just enough charm into his asinine comments. Carl had to admit that _Negan’s_ personality sure went a hell of a long way.

“Wound and all? You got a nice face, kid,” Negan turned toward him, sincerely offering the compliment.

It made Carl’s stomach lurch in a weird way. He wanted to turn away from Negan but couldn’t find the motivation to move.  

“Can I see it?”

Carl’s heart stopped. Immediately, he knew what Negan wanted. He had _never_ shown his face to anyone other than his parents or doctors. “No,” he replied firmly.

“Come on, Carl! It’s fuckin' _killin’_ me here, man. I gotta see what’s under there. Do I gotta suck your cock to get you to show me?”

Staring at him, Carl ignored the twitch in his jeans. The image of Negan on his knees with his head between his legs did something powerful to him. He hadn’t meant to visualize it but it flashed through his mind before he had a chance to stop it. His heart began to beat harder and he could feel heat rise to his face.

“I’m just fuckin’ with you, kid. Lighten the hell up.”

Surprised at the pang of disappointment, Carl remarked, “I _know_ you’re screwing with me. But no one sees it. _No_ one.”

Negan leaned back biting his lip to watch Carl closely and admitted again, “Shit kid, it’s fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Smirking, Carl replied, “Yeah, well, once you suck my dick you earn that privilege.”

Bursting out a deep laugh, Negan pointed to him, “We’ll just see about that!”

In a heart stopping moment, Carl opened his eye wide to Negan’s remark.

“I mean, I’m gonna get you to show it to me,” Negan quickly added. “ _Not_ blow you, sorry to disappoint.”

An awkward pause fell between them before Carl asked, “You ever do it before?”

“Choke on dick?”

Carl nodded, embarrassed having asked, but Negan didn’t seem to be.

“First thing you need to know about sex, sometimes you take what you can get. _Second_ rule? Always make sure your partner gets off. Don’t be one of those rude assholes that fucks and leaves.”

“You didn’t really answer the question,” he said softly.

Negan tilted his head towards him, flashing a knowing smile, “Oh, I think I fuckin' did.”

Looking away, Carl scratched his head trying to hide from Negan’s amused stare.

“And don’t go fuckin’ tellin’ everyone at school about that shit. Christ, that’s just what I need.”

“Yeah, and who exactly do you think I would tell?”

Snorting, Negan tipped his head to Carl.

Carl tried to push aside their current topic of conversation but he couldn’t stop imagining Negan getting off with a guy. He looked up, peeking through his hair to study Negan’s face. He couldn’t stop imagine those lips wrapping around a cock, moaning with pleasure. Beginning to slowly count to one hundred in his head, Carl lifted his leg enough to hide his filling dick. A warm and sudden realization hit him that perhaps spending time with Negan had an underlying intention. It hit him hard in the gut, an unexpected punch making his stomach sink. Looking again to Negan he couldn’t make his mind think of anything other than the possible things they could do together. He didn't know why it didn't occur to him before.

Shaking off his thoughts, Carl reasoned that he was only thinking about Negan in that way because he was the only person he ever saw or talked to. Suddenly Negan was talking about sex and naturally his mind would go there.

He refused to let his mind wander again as they continued to watch TV.

Carl knew it should have been boring but with Negan it never got old.

He crashed on one side of the couch while Negan was on the other. Occasionally, Negan would ask if Carl had seen some of the _classics._ Masterpieces from Negan’s era. Carl would shrug and Negan would insist on watching _timeless cinematic works of art_. Mostly bad action flicks. Carl found it more entertaining to watch Negan’s reaction than the movies themselves. He’d rant off on tangents about where he was when he first saw it or what his life was like back then.

After a while, Carl tended to sprawl, stretching his limbs out, aching from growing too fast. Negan said he was hogging the couch but Carl thought he secretly liked it. At first Carl had felt like the freak with no friends but he quickly learned that Negan was just as lonely. He still mostly refrained from visiting him on weekends, so Carl didn’t know what he did then. But during the week he seemed to reserve nights just for Carl.

His parents still enforced a curfew which Carl reluctantly followed. They hadn’t found the attacker but it had been over a month and Carl was feeling suffocated. As the weather became colder, night fell much earlier meaning he had to leave Negan’s after only an hour or so.

On a Friday night he had happened to stop by, Carl thought he’d try again. It was getting dark and colder, and rain was threatening to break through. “Can I crash here?” He asked abruptly.

Turning to look at him, Negan narrowed his eyes, “We’ve had this conversation before. Don’t waste your energy visiting that topic again.”

“God! Come _on,_ Negan! I’d just crash on the couch and it’s not like anyone has surveillance on your house.”

“Shit, no!” Negan scoffed, “Your daddy is the fuckin’ sheriff. You really think I’m gonna let the son of a cop spend the night at my place? And explain exactly what the hell there? Do they _know_ how much you come over here? Fuck, I bet you don’t even tell them where you go. Am _I_ your dirty little secret, Carl?”

Rolling his eye, Carl replied, “Look, I have to leave, like now, if I want to make it back before dark. I’ve barely spent time here today. Just let me crash. I don’t want to go home. My parents are always fighting about the stupidest shit. I just want a night off of all of that. _Please?_ ”

Eyeing him sincerely, Negan turned his full attention towards Carl, “Look, I’m sorry it’s rough at home right now, but this is something I’m not budging on. You crash here tonight and it’s eventually going to lead to a night two. And fuck, kid, I don’t expect someone to be staring me down with binoculars, but if it became a habit, how the hell am I going to explain that one away?”

“Fine,” Carl stood up, listening to the crack of thunder filter through the sky, he grabbed his bag. “Bye, Negan.” He pouted towards the door.

“Carl, come on. Don’t be such an emotional dick. You _know_ it’s weird as fuck, right?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever. I still have to be home before dark.” He was mad, irrationally so, which only irritated him more, but Carl couldn’t shake the feeling. He didn’t _know_ why he tried so hard to get Negan to let him stay. Maybe just another item of evidence to prove to himself that he was was special to Negan. Different from all the others. He _knew_ it was messed up to ask to stay over at his gym teacher’s house, but it wasn’t really like that anymore. He knew Negan was his teacher, but he was also his friend, even if Negan was reluctant to admit it.

As he approached the door, Carl could hear the faint pattering of rain start to fall. He sighed in annoyance.

“Let me give you a ride home, kid.”

“No,” Carl answered stubbornly.

“It’s raining, Carl. Come on.”

“I’m fine,” he walked out the door, letting it swing closed behind him before Negan could call after him.

He began walking down the block. Carl was growing increasingly angry with his parents for making him stay home after dark. His dad and the rest of police department didn’t have any leads, and the kid who was hurt couldn’t remember what his attacker looked like. Nothing out of the ordinary happened since then. They lived in a small enough town where incidents like that were noteworthy across the town and even some over. Carl figured whoever did it just passed through. He knew his dad felt the same but wasn’t about to give up looking for the attacker. He felt like he owed it to the kid to try and Carl couldn’t blame him for that.

He turned and began to walk down one of his less used routes. Carl didn’t _want_ to go home. And he was _still_ mad at Negan for turning him down. Everyone was getting on his last nerve. He felt suffocated being in that town, waiting for weekends to end and class to be over. He want to run away. Just go anywhere, far from where he was. But it didn’t matter. Carl knew that wherever he ran there would still be the same assholes staring at his face. Glaring at how much of a freak he was.

The rain began to fall steadily. He could feel the weight of it against his shoulders. His hair plastered slick against his skin. Every time he blinked away the water he was momentarily blinded. He brought a hand up to make sure his bandage was still in place covering his wound. It was cold but he liked the harsh reminder of where he was.   
  
Life wasn’t comfortable, why should he be?

He continued to walk a while longer, maneuvering downtown to see if there were any  _other_ psychos walking around on an evening like this. The storm passing through made it seem darker than it was supposed to be. Carl knew he should be home but he couldn’t bring himself to head in that direction. Walking between one of the back alleys, Carl finally decided to stop, hiding in a doorway to shelter himself a little from the increasingly bitter wind.

The street lights illuminated the area around him, glowing softly in an orange hue. His dad was probably still working and Carl wasn’t going to call his mom and make her get out of the house with Judith. For a moment he debated calling Negan and asking for that ride, but he wasn’t ready to swallow his pride yet and he wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal that he had stalked through his phone. Carl was only a couple miles from home and it wouldn’t be too long left to walk, just uncomfortable, so he finally decided to go back out into the storm.

He walked with his hands in his pocket and hoodie tied tight around his chin, charging against the wind and the heavy rain. He stayed in the most well lit parts of town, wanting to avoid getting hit, or splashed, by a car.

Shivering under his clothes, Carl took a moment to stop and look around, trying to find a place to sit out the weather. He once again debated calling Negan for a ride. As he searched for an easy sheltered spot, a car pulled up and stopped next to him.

A man, barely a man, he only looked a few years older than Carl, was sitting behind the wheel. He rolled down the window and called out, “You need a ride? This shit is awful!”

Carl was about to decline the offer but decided a ride would be so much faster. He was shivering and just wanted to take a warm shower and hide under the blankets on his bed.

“Where are you going?” Carl asked, walking closer to the stopped car. He blinked back the rain which was dropping hard on his face, trying not be be blinded by it.

“This is a small town. I need to pick something up but then I can take you wherever you need to go,” he answered. He seemed like a nice enough guy. He dressed much older than Carl would have guessed he was. Nice, crisp, clean white shirt with dress pants. His hair was combed to the side. He looked like he was trying to be someone’s dad.

Carl shook his head, “I really don’t want to bother-”

“It’s no bother. Come on, get in! It’s freezing out there.”

Reluctantly, he nodded and walked to the passenger’s side door. He climbed in to find a towel being handed to him from the stranger. “Thanks,” Carl tried his best to dry off, turning away to make sure the guy couldn’t see the wound where his right eye had been. Carl pulled the mirror down and quickly adjusted the bandage to make sure he was covered.

“Why they hell are you out walking in this?” The guy asked.

“Wasn’t exactly the original plan,” Carl sighed.

Turning up the heat in his car, he introduced himself, “I’m Mike.”

“Carl,” he turned to look at him quickly while Mike stared ahead.

“If you want, you can take those outer layers off and put them over the heater to dry them faster.”

“Uh,” Carl furrowed his brow, feeling confused. “Nah, I think I’m good. Thanks again for the ride.” Carl gave him instructions on how to reach his house.

Mike was pleasant, cordial, almost to an annoying fault. He had perfect white teeth and every single dirty blonde hair was perfectly in place. His clothes were tidy and he spoke confidently. Carl found himself drawn into his charismatic persona. He reminded him of what Negan could be like if he wasn’t a shithead. Confident and talkative.

When Mike missed a turn, Carl said, “Hey, uh, that was my road back there.”

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry. I was thinking about where I needed to be. Totally spaced it out, man. I’ll just run my errand quick and bring you right back, that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he replied. Carl was suddenly feeling very tired. Fighting with Negan, with his parents, hating school, and running out in the rain left him exhausted by the end of the day. He closed his eye for a minute to focus on his breathing.

When he opened his eye, Carl noticed Mike had driven them to the edge of town. The industrial part where people only went if they worked there. Eyeing Mike again, Carl tried to figure out what he did for work out here. Maybe he was one of the office elite, company handed to him on a platter. It would make sense for his attitude and appearance.

Mike pulled his car through the open gate of a linked fence.

It was dark now. Carl ignored the missed calls from his mom that were most likely burning a hole in his pocket. He was sick of pretending to be whatever everyone expected of him. Negan wanted him to be a friend but balance on a border of being too inappropriate to tell anyone. Not that he even wanted to, he didn’t _have_ anyone to tell anyway. But it still put him on edge to know he was expected to act one way at school and one way at Negan’s house.

He sighed, letting out a deep release of his frustration, trying to get the heavy pain in his chest to go away.

“Hey, so I have to get out and check a few things on this building. It was an old grain elevator that burned down years ago. It’s a little dangerous so, probably just stay in the car. Unless you want to check it out? It’s pretty cool. But you’ll have to follow me close to be safe.”

Carl took a moment to think, looking skeptically at the skeleton of the large structure in front of him. “Uh, I think I’m good here,” he decided.

“Okay. It won’t take long. I just need to-” Mike reached over Carl’s lap, “Grab something from the glove box.”

Carl leaned back giving him room as Mike struggled to reach. Right as he unlatched the compartment, Carl felt a sharp pain in the side of his head. He saw Mike smiling down at him before he passed into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude. Wow. I can't believe the response I've been getting from you guys! I can't thank you enough. All the fantastic comments really help motivate me to continue. Originally I was only going to post a one shot and here I am now... I don't even know what I'm doing, but it's because of everyone who has been reading and commenting! So... IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!
> 
> Shout out to novaficachi and authorgirl55 on tumblr! Fuck dudes. Like. I can't believe anyone would make fanart/edits off of something I wrote! Like, seriously they are so incredible. Thank you guys! 
> 
> If anyone wants to find me on tumblr I'm candle-jill on there. If anyone else makes edits or art PLEASE let me know so I can see it! All you guys fucking rock! <3
> 
> Ps - Maligator you muh bae - you have the worst mind I've ever known. It's fantastic! <3

The taste of dirt filtered through the air, heavy and suffocating. A throbbing pound in Carl’s head quickly brought itself to his attention. He couldn’t figure out why his bed was so hard or why he had a splitting ache in his skull. More than anything he wanted to make it stop. Thinking hard about getting some pain meds, Carl winced as he tried to open his watering eye. 

Inhaling deep, wincing at the ache in his ribs, Carl was shocked to find himself in a decrepit building. There was a low light barely illuminating the area around him and he was bent over a stack of wooden pallets, pressing hard into his hips. His hair and shirt were plastered uncomfortably to his skin, making him shiver from the wetness.

Carl tried to stand quickly, as his breathing grew rapid. When he lifted his head he felt distinct hands running up the back of his exposed thighs. Panicking, he realized that his pants were off but he could still feel the material of his boxers protecting his skin against the wooden pallets.

“Fuck. Fuck!” He breathed out, trying to kick the person off of him. Mike, he assumed, as his memory suddenly flashed back through the series of mistakes that had led him there.

He heard Mike laughing behind him as he gripped tight at Carl’s hips.

Struggling, Carl tried to push himself up and push Mike away, but he was being held down firmly. His heart pounded as his mind reeled through what he knew was about to happen. He started to think of all the times he was warned to be home before dark. Warned that he shouldn’t be walking anywhere.

“Get the hell off of me!” Pushing back again, Carl demanded. “Help!”

“Stop yelling. No one can hear you out here.”

Thrusting against the man on his back back, Carl growled, “Fuck you! Get off of me, asshole!” A lump in his throat lodged itself tight and Carl shook as he tried to find leverage.

The man laughed, “I was thinking it might be fun to do this while you were knocked out but it’s just not the same with a limp body. Shit, the way you’re flopping, your ass is going to be a hell of a ride. I’ll leave it at that if you shut the hell up. You keep yelling and you might not make it out of here, though.”

Two hands came snaking up to the back of Carl’s neck, finding themselves home around his throat. Mike grabbed tight and Carl thrust back into what he could tell was a hard dick tight against his ass. Mike released his grip and Carl coughed for a fresh breath.

“You know who the hell I am?” His voice scratched. “My dad is Rick Grimes. The _Sheriff_. You don’t think he’ll wonder where I’m at? Have the whole damn town looking for me?”

The guy laughed, “Hell, I’ve been keepin’ my eye on you for a while. You walk around town, not talking to anyone. Avoiding everyone’s stares. Yeah, I know who the hell you are. No one is gonna come looking for you, not right _now._ Your dad isn’t going to do shit. He didn’t last time. I’ll be long gone before they even find you.”

Squeezing his eye shut, Carl lost control of his breathing. He was in disbelief that this was happening. His heart raced as he realized _exactly_ what was about to happen. He was going to be violated, probably violently and left for dead if the guy didn’t just kill him outright in the first place. His hands shook as he gripped the crate he was being held down on. Trying to stop his hyperventilation, Carl forced himself to slow his breathing. To think of anything that could help.

Mike leaned over his back, “Shh, take it easy.”

Carl could feel the warmth of his body press into him. He cringed into the crate, feeling splinters bite at the tips of his fingers wishing he was anywhere but there. Pleading internally for it to stop. A hand crawled along his side, stopping at Carl’s hip. Without realizing what was happening, Mike ripped down the side of his boxers and ran a hand over his ass.

Yelling, Carl began twisting and squirming, doing anything to escape. With each deep laugh from the sicko behind him, Carl thrashed harder, hoping to do anything to knock him off. Mike dipped his fingers along his ass, grazing at his hole.

Carl bucked back violently, swearing that he’d kill him.

Mike leaned over far enough to say into Carl’s ear, “Shh, hey come on. Every time you fight back you only make me harder. I’m gonna tear into that ass soon but I don’t want to shoot my load the second you spill blood. Gotta say, I was pretty curious what was behind that bandage too. What a disfigured freak! Seein’ that skull alone was enough to almost make me come in my pants. What if we make the other side match? Think anyone would miss your disgusting face if you don’t make it outta here?”

In a blind rage, Carl threw his head back colliding hard with the man on top of his back.

“Fuck!” Mike stood upright, holding a hand to his nose.

Carl turned around fast enough, swinging a fist, trying to hit him. He missed and Mike lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. Pleading for him to stop, Carl kicked hard. He held his eye closed tight as Mike flipped him onto his stomach. Carl couldn’t help the stinging tears that ran down his cheek as he begged him to stop. He scratched desperately, digging his nails into the concrete floor, freezing cold on his stomach as he was held firmly against it.

Ignoring anything his attacker was saying, Carl tried to make space to move, even if only enough to barely crawl forward by inches.

When Mike grabbed his ass tight with his left hand and sat up on his knees, Carl found the opening to turn over, throwing him to the side. Quickly, Carl scrambled up and kicked him hard in the gut.

Mike curled into himself with a groan. Carl wildly threw a punch, this time connecting with his face. When he unrolled slightly to try to protect his head, Carl hit him hard in the throat, forcing a painful gurgling sound to escape him. As Mike coughed and doubled over on the ground, Carl stood and kicked him callously in the head. Again. And again and again, until he stopped moving.

Carl blinked slowly and saw a small trickle of blood pool down around Mike’s head. He backed away. Carl paced frantically around, finding his pants and hoodie in a pile across the large room, still damp and caked with mud. Without hesitating he opened his phone, ignoring the severe trembling of his hands and he called Negan.

He waited what felt like a lifetime between each ring, staring intently on the body on the floor across the room. He quickly looked around and found a crowbar. He grasped it tightly with the rest of his clothes tucked under his arm as he backed against the wall and stared, making sure the body didn’t move.

“How the hell did you get your phone number in my-”

“Negan?” His voice was weak and trembling. He tried to clear his throat to remove evidence of his crying.

“Carl?” Negan asked, suddenly sincerely intent. “Carl, are you-”

“I- I killed him,” he couldn’t blink in case Mike stood up again. “He’s not moving.”

“Hold on,” Negan answered firmly. “Hold on, are you okay? What the fuck is going on?”

“I’m-” Carl thought for a moment. He looked to his arm to see he was still clutching his clothes. “He attacked me.”

“Carl,” Negan said loud and calm. “Are you hurt? Can you answer me? Where the hell _are_ you?”

“He was going to give me a ride-”

“Carl!” Negan interrupted. “You need to answer me. _Now._ Where the fuck are you?”

Rattling off the directions, Carl leaned against the concrete wall and slid to the floor. It was freezing but he didn’t mind the bite of the cold.

“Can you get to a safer place?” Negan asked. “I’m coming _right now_. You hear me, damn it! I’ll be there. You find a place to be safe. You’ll be fine, Carl. You’re okay.”

“The body-” Carl shook his head. He quickly came back to himself, fighting into his wet jeans and awkwardly pulling the hoodie over his head. Standing, he took a few steps closer to the body. “Negan, I-”

“Get the hell away from it!”

He jumped slightly but followed Negan’s command, backing away but never taking his eye from it.

“Now, listen to me, goddamn it. The industrial park is a fuckin’ maze. Was he the only one that attacked you? Can you come out and meet me? I’ll be there in ten minutes but you stay on the fuckin’ phone with me the whole fuckin’ time, you got that?”

Carl nodded, “He was the only one, I think. I was-” he shook his head, “He knocked me out, I don’t know-” Finally turning away from the body, Carl walked toward what he assumed was the entrance still clutching the crowbar tight. He saw the night sky overhead as he left the building.

“I’m outside,” he breathed heavily.

“Good, Carl. Now tell me what _the fuck_ happened?”

“He was just going to give me a ride home. The rain-” Carl choked back the lump in his throat. “He was _normal_. He was just going to-”

“Right,” Negan interrupted. “I’m only a few blocks away, can you find the main entrance? So, he gives you a ride, then what?”

“He wanted me to go in,” he shook as he walked to the front of the building. “I was just going to stay in the car. When I woke up he had me in there. He was-” Carl stopped talking. He couldn’t bring himself to say what almost happened. “Negan, _where_ are you?”

“Fuck kid, I’m close, ok? Did you call the cops?”

“No!” Carl exclaimed. “You _can’t_ tell my dad! My dad can’t find out! If he-” Carl looked up at a pair of headlights driving his way in the distance. He ran towards them, “I _killed_ him, Negan!”

The truck pulled to an abrupt stop, sliding on gravel right before Negan jumped out of the driver’s side. “Carl?” He called.

Carl walked closer, phone still to his ear.

Negan ran over to him and grasped his shoulders tight. “Hey, look at me,” he shook him gently. “Listen to me, are you _okay?”_

Carl nodded and pointed back to the building with his phone, “The body-”

“Yeah, I know.” Negan reached into the bed of his truck and pulled out a baseball bat. “Show me where this fucker is.”

Letting a sigh of relief escape him, Carl walked back towards the building. He needed the body gone. It needed to go away. Carl couldn’t tell his dad what happened. He wasn’t going to let his dad think that he was weak. He had had enough tragedy in his life after his eye, he didn’t think his jaded and reckless behavior would lead him to another tragedy. At least not so soon.

With each step closer, all Carl could think was that he wanted that body gone. He needed to make sure it was gone.

“Jesus, fuck, Carl! How could you be so stupid? I told you- I _told_ you I’d give you a ride! I should have let you stay. Fuckin’ shit, I _knew_ I should have let you stay. I felt it in my goddamn gut. I should have kept you there.” Negan rambled as they walked closer.

“He’s the one, Negan. The one that raped that kid,” Carl pointed through the door, indicating towards the glowing light.

“If you haven’t already killed him he’s going to be dead as shit.”

As they walked closer, Carl noticed now that Mike had a complete set up in this abandoned room. The second Carl decided to get in that car, he didn’t have a chance. On the left side of the crate he had been bent over there was another stack of pallets with a tray. It had tools and equipment and Carl turned away feeling his stomach lurch before he saw anything else.

When he turned he noticed the light was coming from a small battery operated lantern which cast its glow over the body on the ground.

“Jesus, fuck,” Negan said, wiping his mouth. “Fuck,” he shook his head.

Carl jumped when Negan stomped across the room.

“Motherfuckin’ piece of shit! Fuckin’ perverted fucker is gonna get his dick chopped off and shoved down his throat! Fuckin’ fucker!”

Heart pounding, Carl looked at Negan, wide-eyed at the ferocity overflowing with each commanding stomp towards the corpse.

Just as they were about to approach, the body lurched, coughing quietly into the dusty floor. Carl was shocked and disappointed to see he was _still_ alive.

“Hey!” Negan called to him. “You fuckin’ piece of shit, I’m talkin’ to you.”

Carl moved around to see Negan kick him hard in the stomach. Mike groaned on the ground, trying to grasp his stomach.

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you,” Negan knelt down to him to make sure he had his attention. “I see you have a nice set up here,” he said suddenly much calmer.

Mike coughed and tried to push himself up.

Negan placed a hand on his shoulder and held him down. “Now, I like that you have a bit of forethought for this little occasion. You have bleach, fuckin’ bone saw, and-” he pointed to the tray, “Whatever the hell kind of goodies on that platter there. But see, _all_ that fuckin’ planning of yours couldn’t quite account for just this one thing. You were messin’ with _my_ boy here.”

Negan grabbed his arm, lifting Mike almost effortlessly as he threw him against the crate where Carl had been only several minutes ago.

“His name is _Carl_. And he’s a fuckin’ badass, as you have _clearly_ seen. Now, I want to _know_ just what the hell you were _plannin’_ on doin’ with him this evening? Because he sure as shit seems to think you didn’t have _good_ intentions.”

Carl shivered at the calm and conversational tone Negan had towards his attacker. It made his heart jump. Carl had never seen him like this before but he knew how capable Negan was. Just the _way_ he threatened Mike was enough to make the guy shit himself. Carl hoped Negan’s words would become much more than just a threat. He _wanted_ this piece of shit to dead. Preferably in a painful way. It was clear to Carl now that Mike had had no intention of letting him go this night. It burned away at a dark, numb, soulless part of Carl’s body. He wanted to see Mike get what he deserved.

Mike coughed, “We were just havin’ a little fun! He said he’d give me a blow job if I gave him $20.”

Negan laughed, “Is _that_ so? Well, Carl, looks like you have some hidden talents you haven’t told me about. That sounds like a fuckin’ _bargain_ too. I might have to take you up on that offer some time.”

“I swear, I was just messin’ around with him. You know, tryin’ to teach him a lesson. Don’t talk to strangers-”

Carl approached him and stared deeply into Mike’s eyes. “You wanted to make both sides match,” Carl pointed to his exposed wound, hidden slightly under locks of his hair.

“Shit,” Negan said staring intently at Mike, “You _said_ that? Fuckin’ cold, man.” Negan chuckled dangerously.

With his heart boiling, Carl took a step away from him. He could feel tears burning at the back of his eye again. More than anything, with a deep ache in his chest he needed this fucker to die. He wanted it so damn bad. He _needed_ him to be in pain.

“I was joking!” Mike tried to defend.

Negan took a step back, holding the baseball bat in a tight grip. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to joke about,” he smiled wide. “And you better fuckin’ believe if _I_ think it’s fucked up? It’s pretty goddamned fucked up.”

Watching Negan gave Carl shivers. He was calm, bordering on pleasant, and definitely not what he expected from the promise of all his threats. Negan was in complete control of the situation. He commanded attention and both Carl and Mike couldn’t take their eyes off him.

“Alright, so let’s see the count. Tonight you emotionally scarred my friend here. Now he’s, as previously stated, a fuckin’ _badass_. Just look at how well he took care of you himself? But see, I’m thinkin’ he went a bit easy on you. You know how old that kid is? And how about the other one you fuckin’ raped? You know how old he was? You _like_ them weaker than you, huh? So you think, hey! Here’s another hot piece of ass. I’m gonna tap that fucker because he only has one eye? Clearly you should have had the advantage. Is that the general gist of this fuckin’ _clandestine_ affair?”

Mike’s eyes were wide, waiting for Negan to make a move.

“Answer my fuckin’ question.” Negan slammed the bat on the concrete with an echoing bang. “And be goddamn _honest_ about it because I’ll _know_ if you’re lying and that is just goddamn fuckin’ rude. We just don’t have time for that tonight.” Narrowing his eyes, Negan asked threateningly, “Did _you_ rape that _other_ kid?”

Shaking his head, Mike tried to look to Carl for help, but Carl stared at him, ruthlessly, hoping with every ounce of hope that Negan would beat the shit out of him.

“I didn’t think-”

Without hesitation, Negan pulled back his bat and swung hard, connecting firmly with Mike’s temple. Carl jumped at the unexpected swing. He took a step back. His stomach lurched at the sound of wood meeting bone. A part of him wanted to tell Negan to stop but the side he listened to wanted to see Mike in agony.

“Now, let’s try this again? Did you _rape_ that kid?”

“I-”

Negan pulled back his arm.

“Yes!” Mike admitted quickly. “Yes! I just- He _wanted_ it, ok? He said rough and then-”

Another smack hit his head. A dull cracking noise echoed throughout the building as he fell off the crate. Negan took a step back to eye him up.

Laughing, Negan said, “First of all, he was a fuckin’ _kid_ . Doesn’t matter _what_ the hell he _said_ he wanted, you’re way too fuckin’ old to think that’s okay. But you know? It doesn’t really matter. I got a small inkling that you’re lying about that anyway.” Negan tapped him with his foot on the ground, “You still with us?”

Mike groaned. Blood was dripping in a small puddle around his head.

“Sit the fuck up,” Negan ordered. “Answer honestly or you know what the fuck is going to happen? I’m gonna skull fuck the shit out of you with this nice bat of mine I found lying around. It was just sittin’ in the garage, waiting for the next little league game. Who could ever anticipate that this little chunk of wood could have such an important future pulverizing sick fuckin’ pieces of shit like yourself into the ground. So, just _think_ about that when I ask you this next question.” Negan leaned close and studied his face. Narrowing his eyes he smiled darkly, “Were you going to _rape_ Carl, here?”

Mike was crying, panting, his shoulders rising up and down with each sob. “I was- I wasn’t going to-”

“Wrong answer,” Negan replied standing. In one swift motion he swung the bat hard, once again connecting with skull.

Carl watched in amazement. He was frozen to the moment, each time Negan’s arms raised high and dropped down hard, cracking fragments of the bone before reducing them to smaller, bloody puddles. His heart raced at how out of control Negan was. Carl pulled himself from staring at Mike’s twitching body. He felt like he should stop Negan but by now it was too late. The asshole was undoubtedly dead, and his blood was speckled over Negan’s face with each swing of the bat. Nothing but a body with pools of blood spurting and spilling from the neck. The fingers twitched, absent nerves in their last firing commands, as Negan kept driving the bat into the mass of brain tissue and bone in front of him.

Collapsing to the ground, Carl watched as Negan slowly stopped. His chest was heaving from heavy breathing. Carl began to shake as the adrenaline continued to filter through his body. He looked up at Negan, shocked, confused.

_Relieved._

“I thought I killed him,” he sad simply.

Negan stared at the body in front of him. His hand grasped tight around the bat, and his mouth hung open in shock. “I _murdered_ him,” Negan said after a moment. “I fuckin’ _murdered_ a guy.” He dropped the bat and began to pace across the floor.

Carl jumped up and walked over to him. Like trying to calm a skittish animal, he held onto Negan’s shoulder softly, then tight to anchor him back. He looked deep into Negan’s eyes, “He was going to _rape_ me. He was planning on _murdering_ me. And if it wasn’t _me_ it was going to be someone else. Negan,” he pleaded, “That shithead _deserved_ it. I’m so damn glad you did it.”

Negan looked down at him. He studied him for a long time. Carl tried to ignore the spots of blood speckled over his face, sprinkled across his cheeks like morbid freckles. Negan brought his left hand up to Carl’s cheek. Holding his jaw in the palm of his hand, Negan used his thumb to brush across the rough, scarred skin of the wound.

“It _does_ look fuckin’ badass,” he said quietly.

Choking back his tears, Carl quickly said, “Look, we need to- we need to _do_ something here.”

“We should call the cops,” Negan wiped his mouth, smearing drops of blood. He turned away from the pile of bloody mess left across the room.

“No,” Carl insisted. “I don’t think-” he paused, “I don’t _want_ my dad here. I don’t want him to see. He’s gonna-” Carl shook his head, “Negan, he _can’t_ find out. Look, this guy was a piece of shit. Okay? We can just-”

“Okay,” Negan breathed deep, “Do you _know_ exactly what the hell you’re saying here?”

“Yes!”

Negan shook his head, “Are you abso- _fuckin-_ lutely sure that you don’t want to get the cops involved? We can’t go back on this, Carl. It’s now or never. We go down that road, if we get fuckin’ caught trying to hide a goddamn _body_? It’s not going to end well. Right now we have self defense.”

“What goddamn _self defense_ ? You pulverized his head beyond all recognition! No one is going to see that and think ‘self defense’. You didn’t incapacitate him, you smashed his skull from his body. He _doesn’t have_ a fucking head!”

“You’re the damn sheriff’s son, I think they’ll listen to you.”

“No, I can’t.” Carl shook his head, “I can’t tell _anyone_ about this, okay?”

“It’s not your fault this happened!” Negan exclaimed. “You’re fuckin’ asking me to get rid of a body, you fuckin’ know that?”

“Goddamn it, Negan!” Carl threw his hands in the air and began pacing, “I can’t do this right now! I just can’t do this! I just want to go home. I want this night to be a damn shitty dream! I close my eyes and I _feel_ him behind me, Negan. I can’t stop feeling it!”

Narrowing his eyes, Negan quickly walked towards Carl, forcing him to stop. “You tell me every _single_ goddamn thing he did to you. Right now.”

Closing his eyes, Carl shivered, “I woke up and he had me bent over that crate. My pants were down and he tried to-”

“Did he touch you?”

“No, not,” Carl paused, “Not _really_. He _tried_ and I fought. I got out. He got on me again on the ground but I escaped from there too.”

Negan nodded. He was quiet for a moment before saying, “You _sure_ you want to do this? If we go to your dad now you-”

“No,” Carl interrupted. “Please, Negan? _Please?_ ”

Negan nodded. He scratched his head and looked around the room. “Alright, here’s the plan. We have a limited amount of time. You take my truck, bring it back to my house. This is important, you take off _all_ your clothes in the bathroom and leave them in a pile. Your shoes too. Take a shower and wait for me to get back. I’ll get rid of your clothes. Just, take whatever you need from my dresser. You understand me?”

Carl nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Call your parents right now, tell them you’re staying at a friend’s tonight.”

Calming himself, feeling better now that he had someone telling him what to do, Carl pulled out his phone. He hadn’t noticed before in his rush to call Negan but the screen showed several notifications of missed calls. He took a deep breath as his hand shook and called home.

The phone was answered before a ring barely got out, “Carl? Oh my God. Are you okay? Where are you? It’s getting late, I was getting worried!”

Carl laughed to himself. No he was fucking _not_ okay. “Yeah mom,” he answered. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I was-” He shook his head, “Playing a video game. I’m gonna crash here tonight is that okay?”

“Whose house are you at?”

Shrugging, Carl answered, “Trevor’s.”

“Do I know Trevor?”

“Yeah, Mom, look I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Carl. Answer your phone next time! Have fun sweetie.”

Pushing his phone back into his pocket he looked up at Negan and nodded.

“You understand what you have to do?”

Carl nodded again.

“Okay, then.” Negan handed him his keys, “Wait for me at home. It might take a while.”

“Don’t you need me to help? You can’t do all of this on your own.”

“Shit, kid, you’ve been through enough for one fuckin’ night. Go. Do everything I said and try to get some sleep.”

Taking a deep breath, Carl nodded again and walked out the door. It was a long walk back to the car and an even longer drive back to Negan’s.


	6. Chapter 6

It was an odd wave of stillness that blanketed over Carl as he drove Negan’s truck back to his house. The roads were empty and he laughed to himself when he thought of how he wasn’t supposed to be driving, not until he’d had more practice with one eye. He was amused that he found himself concerned about getting caught without a license when he had just been an accessory to murder.

Self defense.

He wasn’t lying, it _was_ self defense.

In a numb haze, Carl parked Negan’s truck in the driveway. It was still raining again which made him feel even more isolated from the rest of the world. He was in his own cloud that no one could reach. Hypnotized, Carl walked into Negan's house and made his way to the bathroom.

Swallowing, Carl dared to look into the mirror. His long hair was wet and flat against his forehead and his wound was exposed. In that moment he hated himself more than he ever had before. He looked disgusting and disfigured and Carl couldn’t blame Mike for trying to end his pathetic life. Shaking and empty, Carl kicked off his shoes. He undressed mechanically, not paying attention with each item of clothing he removed and dropped to the floor. If he made his brain stop, if he just _stopped_ thinking, then the night _wasn’t_ happening.

Lifting a foot over the tub, he stepped into the shower. He stood there a moment, staring at the faucet before he turned the water on. A blast of cold expelled itself from the pipes and he shivered as he tried to adjust the temperature. Hot. He needed it to be scalding hot. Carl needed to burn the night from his skin.

Soon the bathroom steamed, creating a comforting fog that he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Carl scrubbed his hair and body with whatever soap he found nearby. He'd smell like Negan now, he thought. Digging his nails into his scalp, he scoured over and over his skin, lathering as much as he could into it. 

Surrounded by the comfort of water washing him clean, Carl leaned his head against's the wall of the shower. His muscles ached and he was so damn exhausted. He tried to swallow back the lump in his throat but it was no use. He lowered himself to the floor of the tub. Warm taps of water pounded down against his back as he grabbed himself into the tightest ball he could manage. If he held himself together long enough maybe he could disappear.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there but the water began to run cold against his skin. His legs were heavy and he couldn’t get himself to stand. Feeling the freezing water reminded him of what the hell he was supposed to be doing there. He knew he deserved that uncomfortable, painful cold washing over him.

When he could no longer tolerate the chattering of his teeth, Carl pushed the handle in, turning the water off. He sat for a moment before he lifted his sore leg up and stood in an awkward balance. For the first time since he’d been there he realized he was standing naked in the bathroom of Negan’s house.

Avoiding the pile of clothes on the floor, Carl grabbed a towel hanging across a bar and dried himself off. Without thinking, he dropped the towel and walked out of the bathroom. Numb, and cold, and tired, Carl walked down a short hallway, trying to find Negan’s bedroom. The first room had packed boxes and weight lifting machinery. Inhaling deep, Carl opened the next door and found a queen sized bed in the middle of the room with end tables on either side. It was minimalist and chic, not exactly what Carl had expected. If he were capable of feeling anything he would have laughed at himself for expecting posters of centerfolds plastered Negan’s walls.

Standing in the room, Carl shook himself out of his daze. He was still naked, and cold, so he began searching for something to wear. He opened a drawer to find undershirts, plain white T-shirts and differing shades of grey tanks. Grabbing the first white shirt he saw, he pulled it over his head. Hesitating, Carl opened another drawer and found Negan’s underwear.

Out of all the fucked up things to happen in his life he somehow managed to find himself naked in his gym teacher’s house looking at his underwear. In a different time and place Carl might have found it amusing, but in the moment it was just another thing added to the list that made him a freak. Digging through the drawer, Carl found a pair of gym shorts and decided they would do. Stepping into them, he sighed at himself.

Carl didn’t think it was possible to feel the exhaustion that wore straight to the bone. _Bone._ Reaching his hand up to his face, he traced over his wound. He had forgotten to wrap it but he didn’t care. Walking over to Negan’s bed he sat at the end of it for a moment before turning to lay on top of the comforter. He knew he should probably move to the couch, but he couldn’t move. Closing his eye he thought of Negan. He was surrounded by his scent, earthy and warm. It reminded him of summer.

He thought again of Negan lifting his arms, broad shoulders down to thin waist, a curve of perfect movement as he brought down the bat hard.

Negan’s hair had been disheveled, unkempt from his usual pristine condition. More so with each blow. Carl could see it happening in slow motion, over and over and over again in his mind. He could hear the pounding dull crack of the bat meeting skin. Thinking that he should probably be sick to his stomach, Carl was relieved he was only tired. It wasn’t anything he should have remembered, but Negan called him his _boy_. His _friend._ Negan killed a man, because of Carl. He was out there, in the cold wet night, hiding a _body_ for _Carl._ He didn’t know why such thoughts made his stomach jump and chest clench. It was fucking horrific, but Negan was in it with him now.

It was the only comfort he found in the entire night.  

As he lay on top of the covers of the bed, he stared to the ceiling. It was dark in the room but light filtered through from nearby streetlamps. It was the first time all night that Carl really appreciated how much pain he was physically feeling. Scrapes on his stomach and legs ached from being held against the crate. He could feel bruises start to form on his thighs. His arms were throbbing in a dull ache from trying to fend off his attacker.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, staring into the darkness. He might have fallen asleep, but it didn’t feel like it. Every minute was excruciatingly long. Each blink a lifetime as he waited for Negan to return.

When the door to the house finally creaked open, Carl released a breath. Closing his eye, he allowed himself the small comfort of relief for Negan’s return. The water in the shower broke the silence of the house like a promise to Carl. He wasn’t alone in this and the running water down the hall was his proof.

He waited for the light footsteps to tread towards him, softly announcing Negan’s arrival to his room. Carl turned his head to the side and watched as Negan, naked facing his dresser, pulled on boxer briefs and a shirt. It was an odd moment to be concerned by how inappropriate it was to see Negan naked. If he had the energy he would have laughed.

Negan ran his hands through his wet hair and sat at the end of the bed. He laid down on his back, next to Carl, and joined him at staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s taken care of,” Negan said quietly in a voice so unlike his own.

Curiosity was twisting wild fantasies in Carl’s mind but he couldn’t bring himself to ask about any of it. Instead he turned to look over Negan’s face. He seemed relaxed but Carl could feel the tension singing in his body behind his cool appearance. The wound made it more difficult to see him properly, but Carl knew Negan was feeling the same confusion that he was.

Numb and still.

“You sleep at all?” Negan’s voice scratched.

To his surprise, Carl scoffed a laugh automatically.

“Shit this is fucked up,” Negan noted.

“Being in bed with me? Me wearing your clothes?” Carl asked dully, “Or the part where we murdered a guy.”

Negan snorted quietly, “We’re not done with this. Tomorrow we need to burn every fuckin’ bit of clothes we had on. They’re sitting in a tub of bleach now. No fuckin’ way in hell it’s getting traced back to us.”

Carl nodded silently in agreement.

Negan adjusted himself so his head was properly resting on the pillow and Carl did the same. Suddenly he couldn’t stop the flashes of the attack in his mind. He tried to ignore thoughts of what almost happened to him. He _was_ going to be raped. He was _supposed_ to be bleeding out right now. He _should_ be dead. More than anything he hated how helpless he felt. Barely escaping and mostly only due to luck. It was impossible to fight the fragile emotions he was holding back. Carl turned to the side, away from Negan, and tried to calm his breathing. Tears started falling freely each time his mind perseverated over the night. He couldn’t stop. His thoughts would _not_ stop.

The bed dipped slightly and Carl felt a firm hand squeeze his shoulder. An anchor keeping him from going too far. Negan rubbed lightly, comforting him wordlessly as Carl forced himself to stop crying. This time when he closed his eye, Carl fell asleep to the gentle massage on his shoulder and the sound of Negan breathing next to him.

* * *

 Waking the next morning, Carl was confused about where he was. The familiar walls of his room were not in front of him. Instead was a spartan bedroom, comfortable yet clean. As he blinked the sun light from his eye he realized someone was next to him. When he turned, he saw Negan looking at him. Carl had nestled closer into him while he slept and Negan had apparently been fine with it.

“Did you sleep at all?” Carl voice was dry and scratched.

Negan closed his eyes, “No.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but Carl closed his eye and turned, curling closer in to Negan. When Negan moved he hadn’t expected his arm to return, wrapping around Carl’s shoulder, holding him against him.

As Carl breathed in the scent of Negan, he tried not to think. Not of the night before and not about how his heart raced when Negan’s arm embraced him tight. It was fucked up, as so many things had been lately. He finally felt some relief, being held against Negan’s body. Carl lifted his own arm and snaked it against Negan’s stomach. It was an odd sort of hug, but Negan didn’t push him away. He didn’t care what it seemed like, Carl needed something to hold onto and right then Negan was the only person who could understand why. Neither one fell asleep, but they both remained still, listening to each other’s slow breaths.

“You know how fucked up this is?” Negan asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Carl whispered.

“As long as you know,” Negan sighed.

“Are the other guys coming over today?”

“Shit,” Negan moved his arm from Carl and rubbed his face.

Reluctantly, Carl let go and moved away, slowly sitting up to watch Negan.

“Probably be here sooner than I’d fuckin’ care to deal with.”

“I can’t go home yet, Negan,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Negan agreed. “We need to talk some shit over anyway.”

Carl nodded and watched as Negan sat, and placed his feet on the floor at the side of his bed. He still only wore his boxer briefs and white shirt. Something inside Carl made his stomach flutter as he glanced down at Negan’s ass and up to his broad shoulders. He was confused about being disappointed when Negan stepped into a pair of grey pants.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” Carl spoke plainly.

“Speaking of, we have some shit to do,” Negan walked out of the room.

Carl stood and followed. He walked into the bathroom where there was a pile of clothes swimming in a large mess of water and bleach in the tub. Negan pulled them out and started ringing the water from them. Carl helped. When they were done they left the clothes to dry over the curtain rod.

Carl followed Negan into his kitchen. As Negan made himself coffee he asked what Carl wanted to eat for breakfast.

“I don’t think I could keep anything down,” he answered honestly.

“Toast at least. Toast or I kick you the hell out,” Negan threatened.

Nodding, Carl accepted as Negan slid some his way.

They sat at the table, avoiding each other’s eyes, Carl taking absent bites. After some time, Negan finally cleared his throat and said, “Alright, if it comes up, you obviously know fuck all about a missing person. I don’t know what he told you his name was, but his license said John Jefferies. You hear that name come up and you know fuck all, squared, in a box.”

Carl nodded waiting for Negan to continue.

“There are zero traces of us being there, and I mean goddamn _zero_ . I’m not going to tell you what the hell I did, it’s better for both of us if you don’t know, but it’s done and you don’t have to worry.” Negan scratched his brow, then looked up to really study Carl’s face. “I don’t know why the hell he would have wanted to fuck with you. Do you _know_ what the hell you look like?”

Furrowing his brow, Carl looked at him confused for a moment before he reached his hand up and felt beneath his hair to his exposed wound. He froze. Carl never let _anyone_ see it and here he was sitting in Negan’s kitchen like they were having Sunday brunch.

As he began to stand, Negan interrupted, “ _Don’t._ I like looking at it.”

Carl’s stomach jumped and he sat back on his chair. He still shook his hair enough to cover over most of his eye, but for Negan he wouldn’t put the bandage on, not at that moment.

“Right so, rule one, you don’t say _one_ goddamn word to anyone about last night. And I mean _any_ of it. You didn’t stay at my goddamn house, in my bed, wear _my_ fuckin’ clothes, and you sure as shit weren’t an accomplice to murder, which you better keep the hell in mind was actually ridding the world a useless sack of shit. I don’t want to waste another breath talking about _that_ but if it _ever_ comes up again between you and me, you better find another goddamn word to use, you understand me? That was a favor to mankind.”

Nodding, Carl watched Negan carefully. He looked like shit. Carl figured he probably looked the same. He paused a moment before saying, “Thank you.”

Negan scoffed.

“Negan, I-” Carl looked down, scratching away at nothing on the table. “You know what you did for me, right? You _know_ what you did? I don’t mean the, _you know_. But I didn’t have anyone and you were there.”

An odd expression formed over Negan’s face. It was tender and intense, like he was looking right into to Carl’s mind. Reading his every thought, even the ones he didn’t realize he was having. Carl expected him to be an asshole about it, but Negan leaned in towards him.

“Don’t you _ever_ say that shit to me again. _You_ fuckin’ beat that guy’s ass down. You’re a badass. _You_ got yourself out of that, I just cleaned up the fuckin' mess.”

A lump grew in Carl’s throat that he couldn’t swallow down. He felt like he was about to cry, but wouldn’t allow himself to do that in front of Negan again.

Negan seemed to sense his nerves. Standing from the table, he walked into the living room with Carl trailing behind. “Look, kid, I didn’t sleep. I’m gonna drink a 40, hell, maybe an 80, whatever it takes until I pass the fuck out. A coma would be nice.”

Carl nodded to himself, standing uncomfortably in the living room. “I can’t go home.”

“I don’t care what the hell you do, just be quiet.”

Releasing a sigh of relief, Carl nodded to himself and sat on the couch. He watched as Negan walked back into his bedroom and closed the door.

Pushing a finger into his good eyelid, he held the pressure until he saw stars. Carl couldn’t stop the collage of images flashing in his mind. The weight of the guy behind him. The taunting words he threw at Carl. His heart raced remembering how hard he struggled to get away. He had the marks and bruises to show for it, luckily none visible with clothes on. But his skin was still itching from the night before.

He stopped himself from thinking about the attack and instead focused on Negan. Negan with his shit talking mouth, and smug grin. His broad swing as he brought the cracking bat down, practically singing against its victim. He walked with his hips leading, a cocky stroll that indicated he was to have all eyes on him.

Negan who had come to Carl’s aid so quickly, without question, and was willing to go to the greatest of lengths to help him.

A faint thought began to fester as Carl’s kept replaying Negan in his mind. Waking up next to him. Negan holding him, comforting him. He was embarrassed as hell but allowed himself to have at least that small comfort. He wanted it _again._ Now.

Carl wasn’t sure how long it had been but he stood up and toed his way down the hall letting his feet take him directly to Negan’s bedroom. The door was open and he was laying on his stomach. True to his word, the scent of alcohol filled the room. Carl was only slightly envious of his ability to force memories from his mind offering a peaceful sleep in its place. Without thinking, he walked towards the bed and crawled back onto it, laying next to Negan, he fell asleep listening to the sounds of his steady breath.

* * *

The next time he woke up, Negan was gone. Carl heard faint noises of conversation outside. He sighed and pulled himself from the bed. His muscles ached even more as he walked to the door where he saw a crooked piece of paper taped to it. He ripped it down and read the scribbling.

_Stay inside. Guys are here._

Feeling hurt that Negan didn’t want him to come outside, he quickly realized he was wearing Negan’s clothes. And even Carl had to admit that pushed their boundaries too far for kids from school to see.

He walked into the kitchen, the best place to listen to the commotion, and sat down. It sounded like the normal crew that showed up on weekends, at least what he assumed were the usual kids. They laughed and were talking loudly. He didn’t care enough to figure out what was so funny. Then he heard Negan’s voice breaking through, booming and laughing. Like the previous night had never happened, he sounded the same as before. Immediately, Carl became angry at him. Jealous of how he was acting towards the others, being able to put on a show for them. It was irrational but he couldn’t help it.

He started feeling an itchy irritation running up his back. Carl just wanted Negan back inside where he could see him. It made him nervous to have him out of sight. Standing abruptly, he walked into the bathroom where he splashed cool water on his face. Taking a moment, he tried to calm himself. He wondered if he'd ever be able to feel a normal heartbeat beneath his chest again.

Scratching his arms viciously, Carl took the clothes hanging over the curtain rod and left them in a pile on the floor. Grabbing the clothes off his body, Carl dropped them and stepped into the shower. Pulling the knob to the hottest temperature, he put his head under the steaming water blanketing him in safety.

He was already getting sick of his mind not being able to rest for a single moment, so he began to focus on Negan. The way Negan bashed the shit out of his skull, and how he looked with blood speckled across his face. With each thought, the itching on his skin began to fade and was replaced with a calm, controlled contentment. Negan, taunting the bastard. Swinging the bat in fatal blows. Smiling, full dimples showing as he took the life of another man.

Once again Carl’s heart began to race but this time it was because he found himself getting hard. Thinking of the way Negan looked that night and how he took complete control, it did things to Carl. He started to imagine things he’d never considered before. What Negan would look like holding that bat again, heavy in his hands, swinging it playfully before a lethal strike.

Carl wrapped his hand tight around himself at the thought, stroking until he was fully hard. Imagining Negan shirtless, covered in blood but smiling wide. Carl realized he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and feel Negan’s strong hands hold him still. He wanted Negan to drive away any touch that the asshole left on him, and just be covered by Negan. _Negan_ holding him down. Touching him. Rocking into him.

It didn’t take long before Carl gasped and came, with all evidence of his traitorous body washing quickly down the drain. He took a moment to breath and think about what had just happened. He and never really seen Negan in that way. He’d never seen _anyone_ like that. After his injury he stopped looking at girls entirely. But suddenly Negan was _there._ He saw him for who he was, not for the freakish wound.

Turning the water off, Carl shook his head sending droplets of water around him. He tried to push thoughts of Negan out of his mind, but they were better than the alternative. Carl knew he didn’t _really_ want Negan like that. It was just a way to cope with what had happened. But it helped him so he figured it was okay. If it made him feel better he wasn’t going to berate himself too much and spend time dwelling on it. He had enough to dwell on as it was.

He put the clothes from Negan back on and used a towel to try to dry his hair. When he cleared off the fog in the mirror, Carl remembered that he hadn’t bandaged his eye. It was unnerving that he had gone so long without wearing it. He’d never done that at home. Carl took time to care for it gently before turning away. Using his fingers, Carl combed through his long hair and walked back out into the living room.

Negan was sitting there, beer in hand, staring at the TV which was off.

“You sounded like you’re feeling better,” Carl tried to keep the bitterness from his voice but didn’t think he succeeded.

Negn scoffed, “Yeah? Fuck you, kid. You and me? We gotta do every fuckin’ damn thing like we always do, you get me? Nothing out of routine. Including that shit show over there.” He gestured outside.

“They still here?”

“No,” he said, throwing back his drink. “You need a ride home?”

Carl frowned. “I-” he hesitated, “Can I have one more day? I can’t go home.”

Scratching his forehead, Negan waved, “What the hell. Not like we could get into more trouble. Not as long as the curtains are pulled, anyway.”

Trying to fight the redness from his face, Carl walked over to sit on the couch next to Negan. He suddenly realized starting ‘more trouble’ with Negan was almost exactly what he wanted to do. Carl knew it would take his mind off the real problem at any rate.

Negan flipped the TV on and they both turned to stare at it. Carl wasn’t paying attention and he had a feeling Negan wasn’t either.

* * *

Negan burned their clothes. _And_ the bat. He got rid of any kind of evidence that could trace them back to being in the industrial park that night. Carl slept over again. For some reason Negan allowed him to sleep in his bed and Carl didn’t question it. He was relieved to have that _one_ small comfort. In the night when he was sure Negan was asleep, Carl moved closer to him, one hand on Negan so he’d know he was still there.

When it was time for Carl to finally go home, he told Negan he would walk. He needed to prove to himself that the asshole didn’t take that away from him. Walking was his only form privacy and independence and he wouldn’t let _anyone_ take that away from him.

He made it back without incident and steadied himself for a near future of making sure he appeared as normal as ever. Luckily, his parents gave him a wide berth ever since the accident. Carl slowed his breathing and focused only on the task at hand. It was another day, the same as any other, and he only had to make it through.


	7. Chapter 7

The next week at school time seemed to stand still. Carl was hyper aware of his surroundings at all times. He kept catching himself turning more frequently to the right, an over compensation to make sure he was always safe. During class, he scratched his pen in his notebook hard, blacking out aggressively whatever corner he was fascinated with at the time. Teachers mostly left him alone, sensing that he wasn’t in a mood to participate. He was grateful for it.

Carl’s biggest concern was gym class. He was still assigned to his version of physical therapy. Carl knew at this point he could be doing what the other kids were, but neither he or Negan mentioned it. They seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement to keep their distance during class. Carl really didn’t mind it. Every time Negan came near, his heart began to race. As subtle as he could be, Carl spent more time staring at Negan than actually faking PT. He knew that Negan knew he was watching him but he didn't care about that either.

Over several days, he began to notice Negan was putting on a show. Carl liked to think it was for him. He pushed some kids a little too far, not quite knowing when to relent. More like what he did when students visited his house. He noticed Negan began to walk with a cockier sway, approaching the students with a calm command that he was not to be messed with.

Immediately, it took Carl back to _that night._ He had that same cool, calm attitude, implicitly demanding authority over the class. Negan had always had it, but Carl thought it was different now. More fully realized. Or maybe Carl just truly understood what was behind that conviction.

He watched intently as Negan yelled at his peers, barking out orders, then he'd push his hair back and placing his hands on his hip. His shoulders seemed so broad compared to the narrowness of his hips. Carl kept wondering what it would be like to wrap his fingers around those hips.

He’d never thought about guys in that way before but Negan forced him to become more aware of the world. He pulled him out of his cloud of self pity and demanded Carl live a normal life. Or as normal as could be in his situation.

Carl only occasionally caught Negan looking back at him, but it made his stomach jump every time. He berated himself for being cliche as hell, but yeah, he could no longer deny that he was developing feelings for Negan.

Rationally, Carl knew it had to do with _that night._ It pissed him the hell off to know that suddenly finding Negan attractive was tied tightly with the realization that he cared enough about him to come to his rescue. That Negan _killed_ someone, for _him._  Not only that but at Carl’s insistence he’d hidden the body. There was some underlying devotion Carl had for him because he knew that that night would always entwine them forever. Knowing the lengths Negan went to for him only strengthened what he felt. 

While they had minimum interaction during class, Carl was visiting him after school more often than ever. Negan didn’t seem to mind. He was drinking more. Laughing more. And had his eyes on Carl more.

By the next weekend, Carl was dreading spending any significant time at home. He walked over to Negan’s early in the morning, opening the door for himself once he got there. He kicked off his shoes at the door and went to find Negan.

The living room was quiet and empty. Cracking the bedroom door open, slowly letting the creaking door moan, he found Negan still, lying asleep on his bed. Carl knew he should leave, wait for him on the couch, but with the blankets slightly hugging his ass, and his exposed back open to the world, Carl had to walk closer.

The floor groaned as he reached the end of the bed. More than anything he wanted to crawl in and have Negan wrap his arms around him.

“I’m not getting up for at least another hour, kid,” he groaned into his pillow.

Carl startled slightly but thought a moment. Choking back his nerves, Carl began to crawl on his knees up on the other side of the bed. He waited with baited breath, hoping Negan wouldn’t kick him out.

“I’m not movin’,” Negan grumbled, without so much as a glance in Carl’s direction.

Taking it as encouragement, Carl squeezed in on the side. _His_ side. And turned to watch Negan. His face was turned towards him but he still had his eyes closed. One arm wrapped under the pillow and another resting on the bed between them. Adjusting closer, Carl was daring enough to rest his head softly against Negan’s arm, sighing when he wasn’t rejected.

He wasn’t tired but he closed his eye. Carl hadn’t been sleeping well at home. Every time he closed his eye he was afraid of what he’d find. When that happened and thoughts of the attack crept festering back, he forced his mind to Negan and his arrogant confidence.

Very slowly, Carl reached his hand out and softly caressed Negan’s relaxed forearm. His arm that so easily destroyed another’s life. It made him breathe unsteadily, wondering what else those arms could do. Wanting to know what Negan’s _hands_ could do. To _him._

Carl nudged his head against Negan as his fingers trailed up his arms. He could feel goosebumps sneaking up against his fingers. It made Carl smile, at least he had evidence of a small effect over Negan. He listened carefully to Negan’s breathing when he closed his eye. Carl tried to focus on the smooth skin of his arm and the steady rhythm of each breath.

Negan hummed appreciatively at the touch, which encouraged Carl to continue, going from gentle touch to a soft massage of his arm.

“Goddamn it,” Negan mumbled rolling to the side slowly. He squinted to adjust his eyes and focus on Carl. “Why the hell are you here so fuckin’ early?”

There was no real bite in his words.

Carl shrugged, “My head is quiet when I’m here.”

Sighing, Negan rubbed his face, looking away from Carl as he rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling.

Carl moved closer to Negan, close enough to rest his head next to his shoulder. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispered.  
  
“I’m sorry you had to see that. It was pretty fucked up. I just- I fuckin’ lost it. That piece of shit-”

“Not that,” Carl interrupted. “ _That_ makes me feel better.” He was quiet a moment before admitting quietly, “I could watch you do that all day.”

Negan snorted, “Pretty fucked up, kid.”

“You should have seen how you looked. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Christ, I fuckin’ hope to hell not,” Negan turned to look at Carl again, eyeing him closely.

“You ever think about it? Wish you could do it again?”

“I-” Negan paused, obviously not expecting the question. “What the fuckin’ shit kind of question is that?”

His heart began to race as Carl turned against Negan’s side. He was still on his back while Carl, lean and lanky, laid against him. Quietly, he spoke, “You _do_ , don’t you?”

“I’m not about to hunt some sick motherfucker down in my free time, but I wouldn’t hesitate a goddamn second to do it again if it needed to be done.”

Carl shivered at his response, calm and clear. He moved his fingers to continue to trace again along Negan’s arm.

Negan turned and studied his face carefully. Speaking softly, with an amused glow in his eye, he smiled in a deep sing-song tone, “ _Someone’s_ got a crush on teacher.”

Carl’s stomach lurched and heat rose to his cheeks. He wanted to run and hide but the smug look on Negan’s face pissed him off and kept him from moving. Biting back a laugh, Negan’s eyes still roamed over his face. It made Carl feel vulnerable in a way he’d never felt before. He knew it wasn’t going to happen, but for Negan to rub it in was just cruel.

“Tell you what, you look me up after you graduate, we’ll have ourselves a _real_ rendezvous, and maybe we can turn some of those fantasies of yours into a reality,” he mocked. “You want me to order you around a little, maybe blow my whistle at you? You want to call me ‘Coach’?”

“That’s not funny,” Carl said, sitting abruptly and turning away from Negan.

“Shit, kid, I ain’t laughing.”

Carl took a moment to slow his breathing. Looking over his shoulder he narrowed his eye at Negan, trying to figure out why he would be screwing with him. Finally, Carl asked, “Why did-,” pausing he narrowed his eye and tried again, “Why’d you _say_ that?”

“Fuck,” Negan sat, scratching his head as he brought his knee up, still underneath the blanket. “Sorry. Just bustin’ your balls. It was fuckin’ stupid. Forget I said anything.”

He stood and walked to his dresser. Carl watched closely along the lean curve of his back and where it met his ass under his black boxer briefs. They clung to him tight, leaving nothing for Carl to imagine. Taking slow breaths, Carl waited until Negan walked out of the room. He began to hear the sound of running water which was enough to shake him from his daze and walk out to the living room. He waited patiently for Negan while his mind ran over everything that had just happened in the bedroom.

What he had said, Carl wasn’t taking lightly. Negan fucked around but that seemed different. Carl couldn’t figure out why the hell he would say something like that to him. His thoughts raced rapidly. Did he mean it? Was Negan _attracted_ to him? Had he always been? Is that why he invited him over to begin with? Whatever the hell was going on, Carl knew at the very least it was a fucked up thing for Negan to say. He guarded the part of his mind wishing for it to mean something, but Carl knew he never got anything good in his life anymore.

He continued to wait for him in the living room. Their routine was getting old but neither one of them had the energy or desire to change it.

* * *

After the attack Carl began carrying a butterfly knife with him at all times. He was becoming proficient at twirling and teaching himself new tricks. It gave his body something to distract himself with without his mind being able to wander too far.

The attack still haunted him. He’d wake up from nightmares, sweating from adrenaline. Then the _other_ dreams began to find their way to him at night. The ones where Negan would jump in and smash the hell out of the shithead that attacked him. Then he’d turn to Carl showing off the splatter of blood, odious freckles that he wanted to lick and bite. He’d never admit it outside the dream, but in those fleeting moments, with his chest heaving and that intense passion in his glare, Negan was radiant and ethereal and Carl would do anything to see him that way again. Carl had never seen anything so merciless and it made him shiver violently and grow hard to remember.

During classes, Carl began to daydream about finding another worthless piece of shit and letting Negan loose on them. Always with the bat. That baseball bat, so wholesome, all-American, and Negan defiling that symbolism with each blow. In his mind, Negan soon became shirtless with each hammer to the skull. Muscles flexing, and working hard, all while he smiled, pleased with his the results.

Carl ached with how much he wanted it.

Gym was uncomfortable only at first, until he was certain Negan would stay away. Carl continued to stare at him through his hair, with his head down, pretending to do whatever the hell he was supposed to. It was complete bullshit to still be sitting out the class, but Carl didn’t mind. He liked being able to watch Negan order everyone around. Each time it made a dark wave lurch in Carl’s stomach.

Negan could be _so_ much more than what he was. He saw through people in an instant, Carl noticed, as he gave the asshole kids a harder time. It was subtle, but Carl could see his method and it was one of the few things that made him happy.

Even though Negan had called him out on his crush, he never brought it up again, which Carl was both thankful and disappointed for. He knew there was something beneath that surface, especially because Negan didn’t whittle away at it.

He _wanted_ Carl.

And Carl had no objections.

* * *

His heart was pounding as he looked around the dark warehouse. Carl _knew_ where he was. He knew what was happening. He didn’t have to wait long before the rough fingers dug hard into his hips, ripping his jeans down savagely, boxers and all. He grunted as the figure slammed him into the wall, breathing heavy and warm against the side of his neck. Carl fought back, trying to push himself away, but he only managed to push his ass harder into the firm cock against him. 

Carl’s eye rolled back in his head and finally said breathlessly, “Just fuckin’ do it already!”

The laugh was one he’d heard a hundred times, drilled into his mind. Negan’s voice scratched teasingly low against his ear, “You gonna shoot your load before I even get inside you?”

Moaning, Carl leaned back against his chest, giving Negan enough room to slip his hand down his chest, slowly working to his dick. Negan’s warm hand pulled slow waves of pleasure from the base of his cock. Carl could barely breathe with how good it felt and how long he had been waiting for it.

It never lasted.

A rough hand pulled at his shoulder and Carl was shaken from his dream.

“Shit, you’re a fuckin’ loud sleeper,” Negan grumbled.

Since that night, he let Carl sleep over on the weekends. And he _still_ let him sleep in the bed. Carl didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Carl held still trying to catch his breath. He turned on his side towards Negan and bent his knees in an attempt to hide his erection.

“You have another nightmare?” Negan asked bluntly. “Don’t give that piece of shit a second thought,” he rolled over to face Carl.

Closing his eye, Carl savored the small comfort of Negan’s hand rubbing his shoulder. He moved it to his jaw forcing Carl to open his eye, but he still couldn’t meet Negan's.

“This shit is a goddamn bitch of a fuckin’ situation. Hell, you’re strong, kid. You’re _okay_.”

Negan moved Carl’s head, demanding he look him in the eyes.

Carl nodded in agreement. He _was_ okay. Then again, he sure as hell _wasn’t_ , but Negan knew that too. Carl’s eye roamed over Negan’s face. Annoyance masked with concern looking back at him. He smelled good. Carl wanted to get closer. Leaning towards Negan without thinking, he soon found his lips were rough against Negan’s. He felt the scratch of stubble of his facial hair rubbing against his cheek. Daring to lick at the seam of his lips, Carl dipped his tongue in slightly, knowing it was fucked up but not giving a damn anymore. His stomach jumped when he felt Negan kiss back, no matter how brief, before he pushed Carl away and demanded eye contact once more.

“Don’t pull that shit again,” Negan commanded firmly.

Scoffing, Carl rolled to his back and looked at the dark ceiling. He knew he should be embarrassed but all he could muster was anger and irritation. “Why the hell not?” He asked forcefully.

Propping himself up, Negan sighed, “Kid, I would fuck you seven ways to Sunday if things were different. In case you were unaware, let me remind you, they are not fuckin’ _different._ ”

“Don’t give me some bullshit about my age. If you think I’m going to-”

“Shut the hell up, Carl,” Negan interrupted.

Carl closed his mouth and glared him.

“You _know_ this whole fuckin’ situation is some fucking Freudian nightmare, right? We did some carnal shit together. Don’t you roll your eye at me, you little shit. It was _goddamn_ animalistic as hell without _actually_ fucking. Adrenaline and fear pumping through our blood so hard, now when we so much as _think_ about _that_ living hell of a night we _know_ we’re the only other goddamn person we can talk to about that shit. So it gets all fucked in our brains. It comes out as this bullshit.” Negan waved his hand between them. “And any-fucking-way, _yeah_ , I’m your goddamn teacher. So lock this shit down. Or get your ass out of here, go jerk off in the bathroom. I don’t care _what_ the hell you do as long as you know _I’m_ not participating.”

“How the hell is _this_ worse than what we did that night?” Carl sat up, angry and glaring at Negan.

“What _I_ did,” Negan huffed. “And It’s not like we fuckin’ planned that!”

“It’s not like we planned on _this_ either,” Carl huffed.

“ _You_ figure that we’ve already done the worst we can, how the hell can there be any other boundaries to break, right?” Negan asked. “What you’re not getting is that I actually understand and respect the whole ‘don’t fuck students’ rule. Not even talking about the age issue, I have a position of authority over you. That shit can fuck up people, make them think it’s something else when it’s not.”

Carl scoffed, “What the hell could _possibly_ fuck me up more than getting my eye shot out, and oh yeah, murder?”

Negan rolled away from Carl, “Well, I’m not planning to add to the goddamn list.”

After watching Negan’s back for a few moments, Carl kicked his feet back under the covers and lay down on his back. He didn’t have an erection to deal with any more, which only made him slightly less annoyed. It frustrated him that Negan not only admitted to wanting to fuck around with him, but he’d gladly do it. The excuses felt hollow. The way Carl saw it, they were in it together at this point.

After some time passed, Carl had calmed down. He spoke softly, “I think about that night a lot.”

Negan turned on his back and said, “Just focus on something else, kid.”

“No, I mean, it doesn’t _bother_ me anymore.” Carl thought for a moment, “I think about _doing_ it again.” Closing his eye, he admitted, “I _want_ to do it again.”

“Fuck, Carl,” Negan sighed. “You don’t want to go down that road.”

“I want to see _you_ do it again. It’s all I can think about anymore. I know you were cleaning up my mess. But you took charge and the world is better for it.” Carl sighed, “Before this ever even happened I used to think about it a lot. I have a temper and it scared me. I made rules for myself. I had to follow them.”

“What kind of rules?” Negan asked, curiously as he turned jostling the bed.

“I dunno,” Carl shrugged. “I have to remove myself from situations before they escalate. Kids tease me about my eye and I don’t have a problem walking away. They think I’m afraid and that’s why I leave, but I do it for _their_ sake. I find out where they live and walk by. I spend a lot of time thinking about what I want to do to them. I try to stop those thoughts but after that night, I just can’t anymore.”

“No way in hell are you going to do it, Carl,” Negan responded. “ _You’re_ not a killer.”

“I _have_ to do it,” he admitted. “I _need_ to know what you felt. I _need_ to feel that.”

“Oh yeah? And just how exactly are you gonna follow through with this, huh?”

Carl swallowed nervously. He didn’t want to tell Negan how thorough he’d been and how detailed his plans were.

“Just what I thought,” Negan huffed.

 “I’m going to go a few towns over. Get into one of the bars. Lots of them don’t check ID. I’m going in, and waiting.”

“And what the hell are you waiting for?”

Carl glared at him, “You know. When one of them approach me, I’m gonna tell them I’m hitch hiking, could use a few bucks. Oh, and I happen to be 14.”

Negan snorted, “That’s your genius plan? Find some pedophile creep and decide he’s worth takin’ out?”

“You don’t think I can do it?”

Negan laughed, “I sure as shit _know_ you could do it. But it’s fuckin’ insane. You know that, right?”

Carl shrugged, “I want you to come.”

“No goddamn way in hell is that fucking shit happening,” Negan stated firmly.

Nodding to himself Carl said, “So I’ve heard.” He took a few deep breaths and made himself comfortable.

Carl didn’t think he’d be able to fall back asleep after how heated their discussion had been. He had _kissed_ Negan. And for some damn reason, Negan still didn’t kick him out of his bed. It wasn’t much of a discouragement to lay next to him, listening to the soft puffs of his breath slowly calm into a steady rhythm. Like a metronome, the even pace soon put Carl to sleep.

* * *

Negan pretended that none of that night had happened. Carl left his house earlier than usual and didn’t stay the next night. He didn’t know what Negan would think of him skipping out. So far he had spent any free time he had with Negan. He hoped that it stabbed at him, if only a little, so he’d realize that Carl actually mattered to him. 

It was stupid and Carl knew it, but he wanted Negan’s attention. He wasn’t intentionally playing _‘hard to get’_ , he was just honestly pissed and wanted Negan to realize Carl wasn't being completely unreasonable.

One day in gym class, Carl spent time scribbling on a notebook instead of working on his physical therapy. Up until then he had at least appeared to be doing what he was supposed to. Now it was completely obvious he was basically shouting _Fuck you!_  He did it partially out of curiosity and another part of simple defiance. He wanted to see how Negan would react to his complete indignation.

He was pleased when Negan finally yelled at him to go to his office. Carl smirked to himself while putting on a show of trudging to the door. Without hesitating, Carl walked in and sat at Negan’s chair. He began to swivel from side to side, waiting. He’d never really seen his office before. There was a big open window that looked out to the gym, but the blinds were drawn closed.

For some reason, being in his office felt more like an invasion of privacy than being in his bed. This was _school_ and he had to admit, Negan was right on that account. It was a hell of a boundary to cross, not that Carl would mind. As ridiculous as it was, Carl was amused to think Negan could give him _detention_ if he wanted to. Although Carl knew he’d never do it, just knowing he could made their fucked up relationship more obvious to him.

Carl kicked his foot up onto Negan’s desk and waited patiently. Class was almost over. He’d be surprised if Negan would make him late for the next one, but he did wonder. After he heard Negan dismiss his classmates, he waited for the familiar footsteps to storm in. He couldn’t hold back his satisfied smile as he heard Negan shut the door behind him.

Feet dropping with a hard thud, Carl was caught off guard as Negan twirled the chair to face him.

Carl held his breath as Negan’s eyes focused so intently on him. His heart started to race underneath the scrutiny. Negan didn’t fail to notice as a wide grin broke across his face. Carl studied him closely, trying to ignore the desire to lean in and kiss the damn smug look off of his face.

Chuckling quietly after seeing his influence, Negan tilted back and crossed his arms, “What the _hell_ is with you?”

“Nothing,” Carl replied dully.

“Don’t give me the teenage bullshit. What the hell is going on?”

Narrowing his eye, Carl shook his hair back away from his bandage. “ _Nothing,_ ” he insisted.

Negan bit his lip and moved his hands to his hips. Quietly he asked, “Why did you stop coming over?”

Huffing, Carl replied, “Seemed like _someone_ didn’t want me there anymore. And I have more important things on my mind right now.”

“You better not be doing what the fuck I think you’re doing.”

Standing up and walking into Negan’s space, “It’s none of your damn business." Carl shrugged, "Is that all?” He pushed his shoulder into Negan’s as he tried to make his way past him to the door without waiting for a response. 

Immediately, as Carl was about to try to leave, Negan spun around and put his palm against the door with his foot firmly in place at the bottom.

In a rage, Carl turned to find Negan’s chest next to his. “Let me the hell out,” he demanded.

Negan chuckled quietly, “You’re _not_ leaving this goddamn room.”

“You say that to all the boys you corner in here? Not satisfying enough to have them at your house, you need fuck them over in your office too?”

Fingers wrapped tightly at his shoulders as Negan spun Carl around and forced him to sit in the swiveling office chair again.

“Hey, psychopath, shut the hell up.” Negan’s voice was quiet but firm. Putting his hands on the armrest, he leaned in close to Carl’s ear. “You don’t say _one_ fuckin’ word about that, you get me? Not as a joke, not as some weak ass punch you think is going to get under my skin. _That_ fuckin’ subject is off the table. Wrong person overhears you and this damn thread unravels fuckin’ fast. If the questions start pouring in about why the hell I’ve been spending time with you, you _know_ what that traces back to. So you can stop that shit right the hell now.”

Carl shivered when he looked up at Negan wide eyed. He was surprised how close Negan was to him. Negan moved his head closer so his lips barely ghosted over Carl’s.

“Now, I can’t have you _runnin’_ all around bein’ a little _serial killer_ ,” the tone of his voice was light and full of amusement and made Carl start to grow hard under his gym uniform. Which he quickly remembered didn’t hide anything.

Negan held his eye contact but Carl could tell by his smug smile that he knew Carl was turned on. His face warmed instantly and suddenly all he could smell was Negan’s cologne. He could feel his breath whisping over his lips as he wouldn’t back down. Negan held strong, torturing Carl, taunting him to make a move.

So he did.

Standing, catching Negan by surprise, Carl pushed him back against the door, colliding their lips together. Thrusting his hips against Negan. He bit hard at Negan’s bottom lip and soon stood in awe of Negan kissing back. Rough lips, teeth clashing, Carl scratched furiously at Negan’s shirt, trying to free the tucked material.

Negan grasped his arms tight and stopped him.

Glaring, breathing heavy, Carl ripped his arms from Negan’s grip. Negan was still blocking the door. Carl exhaled to try to calm himself down.

“Tell me what the fuck your plan is.”

“No,” Carl said simply, catching his breath.

Sighing, Negan asked plainly, “Just answer this, you don’t need to tell me any precious fuckin’ details. _Do_ you have a plan?”

Carl eyed him suspiciously before nodding yes.

“Have you _really_ thought this psychopathic plan out? And I mean _every_ goddamn detail.”

Nodding again, Carl relaxed his pose.

Negan took a step closer to him, swaying his hips towards Carl, “You still want me to come with you?”

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Carl looked up in anticipation, “Yes.”

Wiping his mouth, Negan stood to his full height. “Come over after school today.”

Carl smiled and nodded. He walked to the door as Negan stepped aside. Grasped the knob, he paused. Swallowing his pride, Carl asked quietly, “Can you write me a note? For being late to English?”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Negan scribbled on a piece of paper and shoved it in Carl’s direction. “You know, most kids your age are only worried about the goddamn prom?”

Carl shrugged. Walking out of Negan’s office and down the hall, he had to hold back the little spring he seemed to find in his step.


	8. Chapter 8

“I’ll give you credit, kid. You have _half_ of the damn thing well thought out. It’s a good location,” Negan scratched his jaw as he leaned forward on the chair in his kitchen. A cigarette was lit absently between the fingers of his other hand. He'd said it had been a while but after recent events he decided _fuck it._

Carl felt a warmth of pride settle in his stomach as he listened to Negan’s praise of his plan.

“The part you’re not giving a big enough shit about is getting _rid_ of it,” he pulled a long drag and flicked ash into an empty can of Coke.

Clenching his jaw, Carl turned to the side. Reluctantly he said, “Remove any evidence. _Destroy_ any evidence.”

“No shit, genius. And how the _hell_ are you doin’ that exactly?”

“I don’t know! I’ll pour a gallon of bleach on him,” he said sarcastically.

“Yeah?”

“And _then_ 5 gallons of rubbing alcohol,” Carl added, perturbed.

Negan snorted a laugh, “Might want to have a test run with that before the big game.”

“What, you don’t think it’ll be enough?” He asked sarcastically.

Bringing the cigarette to his lips, Negan inhaled deep, eyes squinting moving back and forth studying Carl’s face. After he blew smoke to the side, he rubbed the butt out on the can. “Is puking all the hell over and passing out part of your plan?”

“What?”

“You do that and you’re making chloroform. In small amounts, not bad for the pregame show. _That_ amount will probably drop your ass right at the scene.”

“Fine,” Carl gestured to Negan. “What the hell would _you_ do then?”

“ _I_ _’ll_ take _goddamn_ care of it. You don’t have to worry your pretty little head.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“First let’s see if you have the balls to even go through with this. I’ll be there with you but I ain’t doin’ shit until you see you’re way the hell over your head.” Standing, Negan leaned back on his heels and looked down at Carl, adding, “And _if_ my job is shit shoveling, I’m not telling you any-fucking-thing about how I do it.” Carl started to speak but Negan interrupted, “It doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with you except if I don’t tell you, _you_ get to hold onto your plausible deniability. And _that_ keeps your _and_ my ass a hell of a lot safer.”

Hesitantly, Carl nodded, agreeing with him. Thinking for a moment, he asked, “How do you know so much about this?”

Standing from the table, Negan sauntered closer to Carl. With a smug smile on his face, he flashed his dimples at him causing Carl to blush. “You are just so _goddamn_ _adorable_ , kid.”

Carl glared back at him.

Negan turned and as he walked into the living room he called, “How are you going to pick one? You’re not really going through with that shitty bar plan are you? And you _better_ not be stupid enough to do fuckin’ internet searches. You know that leaves a trail.”

Clenching his jaw, Carl followed him, “I have one already.”

“You _have_ one?” Negan lifted his eyebrows and turned around. “Like in your basement?” He asked sarcastically.

Pursing his lips, Carl replied, “No, asshole. I _know_ who it’s going to be.”

As Negan sat down, he gestured to Carl, “Oh, you _know_ who you’re gonna beat the shit out of?”

Annoyed, Carl crossed his arms, “Yes, and I know where he’ll be and I know how to get him where I need him to go.”

“Hell, sounds like you got it _all_ figured out.”

“I _do_.” Narrowing his eyes at Negan he added, “And I’m doing it soon.”

* * *

Carl put a lot of thought into his plan. He figured burning his clothes would be a necessity so while shopping at the thrift store he found something baggy. Just one size too big. It was perfect. It might make it difficult to maneuver but his target wouldn’t be as violent as that first bastard. And Carl was the one that knew what was coming. 

As he sat on top of a picnic table sprawling his legs on the bench, he stared nervously at the sunset. He was alone in the park. Alone, besides Negan waiting in his truck from a safe distance down the road. 

Ever since Carl picked his target he’d been studying him closely. Instead of wasting time walking past the homes of the bullies at school, he shifted his attention. The time he had spent stalking had a real purpose now. He knew the guy’s routine. Tim Peterson. The perfect candidate.

Negan never even asked why he had picked him. Carl knew he didn’t think he’d go through with it. He thought Carl was only bluffing. Not brave enough. Not _crazy_ enough. But when Carl read over Peterson’s record at the station, he knew he was the one.

The idea came to him when he stopped going to Negan's. While visiting his dad at the station, Rick always assumed Carl was just browsing through the internet instead of looking through the records. He’d never known what Carl had been really planning. And no, Carl wouldn’t have any guilt about this one.

Taking deep breaths, he waiting for Peterson to make his usual appearance. After work, he always seemed to eat his supper in the park. Watching the kids if there were any. Not many times that there were, but Carl noticed how Peterson’s eyes changed when he saw them. How they lit up at the sight.

It disgusted him.

Exhaling, Carl laid his back down on the table. Looking up through branches of tall trees, he took a moment to really feel how fast his heart was beating. His arms felt jittery and anxious. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure that  _he_ really wanted to be the one to do it. He was hoping Negan would. Carl wanted to see him in a feral rage.

And then there was the calm.

Negan had a brief window, the eye of the storm where he was cordial, polite, and kind. It scared the shit out of Carl and he needed to see it again. _One_ more time. The very memory of how it happened before made Carl feel alive and untamed. 

“Excuse me,” someone cleared their throat.

Carl sat up quickly to see Peterson in front of him. “Yeah?” Carl turned his shoulders inward, trying to look smaller and younger than he was. It wasn’t hard. He was short for his age.

“I was just hoping I might share the table with you. I like to eat my supper here.”

Swallowing nervously, Carl saw him with a paper bag clenched in a hand.

“Yeah, sure.” Carl moved to sit on the bench. He watched Peterson walk around and sit on the other side. Clearing his throat Carl said, “My friend said he’d get his mom to pick me up. I think he forgot about me, though.” 

Peterson pulled out a sandwich. “You live far away?”

Carl shrugged, “Right now I’m staying with whatever friend will take me. My parents moved away from here. I didn’t want to go. A couple months after the move I found my way back.” The lie came easy to him. 

“Wow. Don’t your parents worry?”

“I doubt it,” Carl fidgeted with his fingers. “I told them my friend’s mom was letting me crash and I could re-enroll in school here. They haven’t checked in much.”

“What grade are you in?”

This was the moment Carl was worried about. Peterson might see through him if he didn’t do it right. “I’m supposed to be in eighth but I never re-enrolled.”

“Eighth grade, huh?”

Carl nodded, looking down. He listened as Peterson unwrapped his sandwich. They sat in silence for a short time. Looking around the park he spotted Negan’s truck. He wondered if Negan was nervous for him. Carl half expected him to come stomping over and punch the asshole. He couldn't deny that he wouldn't mind it. That wasn’t the plan, though.

Clearing his throat, Carl scoffed, “I’ve probably been out on the streets more anyway. Kind of getting use to it by now.”

“Is that what happened to your eye?”

Shaking his head, Carl huffed, “Nah.” Scratching his head he continued, “Happened when I was younger. My friends and I were being jackasses. We were playing with these wire things, scraping knives over them. It was pretty cool actually. It would rain sparks. Well, they knew to hold the knife and push away. I was an idiot and scraped upward. Spark flew in my eye. The end of that.”

“Why the bandage?”

Shrugging, he answered, “I could have had a glass eye but it floats around. They never seem to focus together. Distracting as shit. And I don’t really want to be a pirate. This stays pretty hidden by my hair.” It was the most honest he'd been with the man. Nodding, he continued his lie, “Plus my parents never really pushed for me to try anything else, so I just kept it like this.”

“Your parents sound like assholes. You’ve had to fend for yourself a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, you know how it is.”

“It sounds like you’ve had a rough go of it.” Peterson lifted an eyebrow and asked cautiously, “If you’re going between friend’s houses and living on the street, what do you do for money? You look well fed and I’d bet my life on it, you’re not getting paid for odd jobs.”

Even though his heart was pounding, Carl smirked through his nerves, “It’s not _hard_ to figure that out exactly.” Then he laughed, channeling his inner Negan. He scratched his head, “Well, _something_ usually has to be _hard_.”

Carl watched carefully as Peterson stopped chewing momentarily. The side of his mouth perked into a slight smile before he quickly continued eating. It was enough for Carl to know he had his attention and the sick fuck was interested.

“Actually,” Carl began, “Since my friend’s mom isn’t here that means I’m on my own tonight. I could use a little cash. Do you think you’d-” He let the question hang unanswered but smiled coquettishly.

Peterson attempted to casually glance around the park, “What all do you do?”

“$10 for a handjob, $20 for a blowjob.” Clearing his throat, Carl added, “$50 for the night.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

“Not the first time I’ve done it,” Carl bluffed. He was nervous but he knew he had Peterson on the hook. Carl had to be delicate reeling him in or he’d get spooked.

Peterson eyed him suspiciously, “You do role playing shit?”

Carl scoffed, “As long as you don’t want me in a dress.” From the file he read, he knew Peterson wouldn’t want him in a dress.  
  
“You have a hotel room or something?” Standing up, he crumpled his bag in his hand.

“Depends on what you want.”

“The night,” he said confidently and then turned to throw his garbage away.

“Alright,” Carl stood anxiously. He tried his best to look enthused but inside he was vibrating with nerves. He was going through with it. He was _really_ doing it and this asshole was going along as planned. It was too easy which only made his palms sweat worse. “Hey, actually, if you don’t mind I have this place where I crash when I don’t have a place for the night. It’s quiet, no one around, I like it there. What do you think?”

Smiling, Peterson shrugged, “Whatever you want.”

“Thanks man. I mean it, I could really use the money right now.”

“No problem, kid.”

Carl paused at the name. Negan called him ‘kid,’ not _this_ asshole. It annoyed him enough to feel confident in his plan.

“You have a car?” Carl asked.

“Down a few blocks,” he directed and they took off walking the opposite direction of Negan's truck.

Carl turned his head around briefly to make sure Negan knew he was going through with it. It _was_ going to happen and Carl hoped to hell that Negan would be as destructive this time as the time before. He had dreamt of seeing him like that again, blood soaked, calm and cock sure. He took over last time and Carl was praying to see that side of Negan once more.

The one thing of which Carl was certain, he had been the only person alive to see _that_ Negan and which made _him_ feel alive.

* * *

“Why the hell do you stay way out here? It must take you at least an hour to reach it on foot,” Peterson’s feet crunched on the gravel grinding beneath him.

Carl had scouted the place a while ago, and yeah, it _did_ take an hour to get to on foot. But he had to be certain that they were far enough from town.

“I like walking,” Carl shrugged. Adding quickly, “And I don’t have to worry about people stealing my shit out here.”

He had instructed Peterson to park on a gravel road a few miles outside of town. He specifically told him to keep his car a safe distance from where Carl was taking them. They walked through overgrown weeds and the brush scraped against the legs of their pants.  

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Carl asked Peterson as he lead him to the abandoned shed.

“I’m not a virgin,” he laughed.

“No,” Carl rolled his eye. Before he went through with his plan he needed to be absolutely sure that he’d chosen the right person. He knew he did but there was still a slight twinge in the back of his mind that was trying to hold him back. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m only 14?”

Peterson eyed him carefully and said, “Kids like you, kids raised on the streets, _you’ve_ lived more lives than most ‘adults’. Does your age make you wise or does your _experience_ in the world? I could tell the second I saw you that you were more mature than other boys your age. With that eye injury alone you've probably grown up more than most people in a lifetime. You know what it takes to _survive_. You’re willing to _do_ anything. Fight for anything.”

Carl _fought_  not to roll his eye, “Normally I tell people I’m 16 if I’m lookin’ for a job. I didn’t think I’d need to today.”

“Hey, hey,” Peterson stopped walking and turned to him. “You don’t have to explain a thing to me. I see you. I can tell you’re an old soul. Age doesn’t matter, right? It’s just a number. And to tell you the truth, when I saw you laying back on that picnic table, there were quite a few thoughts roaming through my brain.”

“Even with my eye?” Carl asked, surprisingly sincere.

“I didn’t see that right away.”

“Oh,” Carl was annoyed at the pang of disappointment sinking in his chest. He didn’t _want_ this fucker’s approval. He wanted him dead. But the idea that someone had found him attractive was something he wasn't used to, especially with his injury.

They approached an old wooden shed, planks barely fastened to the walls. Carl pulled on what was left of the door, creating an opening big enough to step inside.

“Just wait a second,” Carl called out.

The shed was dark. Carl pulled his phone out to find a path. It was a single room, empty and crooked. It felt like it would collapse with the slightest touch. The ground was hard and made of dirt where the boards were no longer there. A few places had wisps of grass peeking through. Carl walked over to the corner where he had left a backpack of supplies. He pulled out a small electric lantern and turned it on. A warm glow bright enough to see around but dim enough not to catch attention should anyone happen by.

“Alright, be careful,” Carl called, smirking to himself.

“Where the hell are you?” Peterson pulled the door back and squeezed through. Carl lifted the lantern, showing his face, and watched as Peterson walked near him. “Are you scared?” He teased. “Need a safe word?”

Feeling his rage beginning to bubble in the pit of his stomach, he ignored the taunt. Carl had placed a plastic tarp on the ground with a sheet over it. A few steps away lay his backpack. Carefully tucked away was a small printout of Peterson’s record. Carl had gotten a hard exhilarating rush printing it right underneath his dad’s nose, never knowing he did it. Never expecting what Carl planned to do with it.

“So,” Carl began, biting back his disdain, “What do you want?”

“Get on the ground,” Peterson demanded.

Carl walked towards the tarp and began pulling his shirt over his head.

“Stop. Leave it on,” Peterson said.

Carl paused for a moment before letting go of the material. He sat down on the hard ground making sure he was within reaching distance of his bag.

“Lay down, on your stomach. You’re asleep.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Carl gripped his fist tight as he positioned himself. He knew what Peterson was doing. This was in his file. Carl was having a difficult time calming the anger he felt beneath his cool surface, but he did as he was told.

Carl listened to Peterson’s obscene moan behind him. It disgusted him. He felt Peterson begin by pulling Carl’s pants down, bare ass to the world. He breathed slowly, working himself through the reminder of the last time he’d been so vulnerable. He listened as Peterson unzipped his own jeans and knelt next to him on the tarp.

Jumping slightly, Carl bit his lip as the man’s fingers slowly traced delicate patterns on his ass. Carl shivered.

“Shh,” Peterson tried to console him. “I’m gonna call you Dylan.”

Carl tensed, recognizing the name as Peterson’s stepson. His six year old stepson.

“Shh, Dylan,” his fingertips ran over Carl’s body giving him goosebumps. “This will feel good.”

He couldn’t relax as he thought back to the file. With each touch and caress from the sicko, Carl remembered his charges. Besides the bruises, he had been molesting and raping his stepson. He was only caught because the poor kid made a comment at school. But after only a short time away Peterson was right back out. Living in the same house with the same family. Beyond the kid’s mother being a fucking dumbass, Carl didn’t know the details. But he knew that Peterson was going to pay and it was going to be much more than a slap on the wrist.

With each reassuring touch from the fucker, Carl grew more and more upset. He was practically shaking. He felt Peterson straddle his legs as he continued to trace light patterns on his skin. Carl held his eye closed tight as he felt Peterson’s fingers search with intent. He couldn’t help holding his breath, and tensing.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peterson cooed and ran his hand against the back of Carl’s neck. With a tight squeeze, he began to push Carl hard into the ground.

Carl was shaking under his grasp, still undecided about the right time to turn around and swing his bat at him.

Peterson pushed against his shoulder blades again, “Don’t move or this could hurt.” His voice was falsely saccharine, making Carl angrier.

He jerked up as he felt Peterson’s finger breach into his hole. Carl was sweating and couldn’t take it a second longer. Just as he was about to grip the bat he felt the cool night sting against his skin where Peterson had been a moment before.

“Dont you fuckin’ touch him,” Negan stood towering over them, with Peterson scrambling on the ground.

Carl pulled up his pants and reached for the bat. Before he could even move it towards him Negan was ripping the bat out of Carl’s hands. Carl watched wide-eyed as Negan took a step closer to Peterson.

“What the hell?”

“I read your fuckin’ file,” Negan sad calmly.

“Are you the cops? This is fuckin’ entrapment. He told me he was eighteen! You can’t-”

The bat connected solidly against the side of Peterson’s head. Carl’s heart was pounding with adrenaline as he watched Negan squat down to eye level with the man.

“Shut the fuck up,” he demanded. “Now, I have some really fuckin’ interesting paperwork about you. Fucking your step son? _Really?_ ”

He shivered and looked up at Negan, “I served my time! I learned my-”

Negan swung the bat again, hitting him on the side of the head, forcing him to fall to the side. “It might be a _little_ more goddamn convincing of you to tell me you had learned your fuckin’ lesson if I hadn’t just walked in here with your finger up my boy’s ass. You see where I might find it a little fuckin’ farfetched to believe you in this quandary we seem to find ourselves in?”

Carl couldn’t take his eyes off of Negan. He was calm and demanding and like everything he'd been fantasizing. Carl had to fight against every urge in his body not to stick his hands down his pants and alleviate his problem.

“And _what_ a quandary we have!” Negan smiled, leaning in close to Peterson. “See, my _boy_ here gets all hot and bothered watchin’ me beat the goddamn brains out of anyone I can get my hands on. But I told him, _I’m_ not getting my damn hands dirty this time.”

“Thank you! Thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll just-”

“Do _not_ fucking speak unless I ask you a direct question. You understand me?”

Peterson trembled, closing his mouth he nodded.

“What the hell was I saying?” Negan looked over his shoulder.

Carl’s heart jumped as Negan made eye contact. He could see his chest heaving from anticipation and Carl couldn’t imagine what he looked like to Negan. Anxious. Scared. Aroused beyond anything Negan had seen. And this time Negan let Carl watch as his eyeline dropped to Carl’s jeans, fixating on what he knew was Carl’s erection.

Carl sighed, breathing heavily as Negan turned back to business at hand. 

“Oh, _that’s_ right. Carl here gets a stiffy watching me take batting practice out on some pedophile fuck. He knows _I’m_ not a fuckin’ pedophile. But hell, the problem _is_ he still wants me to fuck him raw _after_ I fuck _you_ up. Isn’t that just fuckin’ sick?” Negan smiled and turned to Carl, “Kid, I’m tellin’ you, you might need to talk to a professional about these feelings of yours.”

Huffing out of embarrassment, Carl’s stomach sunk as he glared at Negan. He was glad it was too dark to see his face turning red. He was mostly annoyed that even through the taunting he still wanted to get his hands on every inch of Negan.

“You wanna know the _real_ fuckin’ secret, though?” Negan turned back to Peterson, “See, I’ll _tell_ you because you looking like one of those trustful motherfuckers that knows how to keep your goddamn mouth shut. So, the truth here is, I get _just_ as fuckin’ _hard_ providing a service to the good people of this town as _Carl does_ watchin’ me. And do _you_ know what that fuckin’ service is?” Negan leaned in towards Peterson. He paused, searching over the man’s face. Sighing, he added, “You can answer the fuckin’ question. _Do_ you know what service I provide that makes my dick leak like broken faucet?”

The man shivered and shook his head, finally muttering, “N-no.”

Smiling, Negan stood. With a swift twirl of the bat, he brought it down hard against Peterson’s skull. “Extermination,” he laughed and continued swinging.

Carl stood back for a better view, his heart raced and his stomach fluttered. Through his smile, Negan was concentrating on the body beneath him. Carl couldn’t tear his eye off of Negan’s back, then his arms, muscles constricting and tensing with each striking blow. He was vaguely aware that Peterson had stopped making gurgling noises, but Carl was too transfixed on Negan, glowing effulgent in the dimly lit shed. 

Blood splattered along the rickety wooden boards, trailing thick drops down to the ground. Negan didn’t relent, vicious in his vengeance. Carl had _hoped_ he’d see this side of Negan again. It was better than any fantasy he could will himself to have, with Negan’s hair shaken out of it’s usually neatly slicked back style. He was feral. Wild and untethered. It made Carl utterly breathless.

Reaching into his jeans, Carl wrapped his hand tight around his cock, only a teasing squeeze. He could feel the rumbling stir low in his spine. Finally giving in, he used his hand to stroked indulgently. Listening to Negan laugh and pant from exertion made him light headed. With each pull his muscles tensed and as Negan brought the bat down in one final blow, Carl gasped out a moan, coming with his hand still in his pants, exhausted, and only slightly embarrassed.

Negan dropped the bat. Blood was slicked over his fingers and dripping to the ground. He turned around for Carl to see the speckled crimson stains over his face. He was breathing hard as he sauntered closer to Carl who looked back up at him in amazement.

Carl realized his hand was still in his pants too late when Negan reached out for his arm. Forcing him to quickly remove his hand, Negan grabbed his wrist coating it with a sticky red ring of blood, and brought Carl’s palm to his lips. With a heavy gasp, Negan licked to the tip of his middle finger. Carl felt his dick twitch in his jeans as Negan wrapped his lips around his finger and suckled the come off of Carl.

He was lightheaded and heavy lidded, hardly believing the night was real. Negan dropped his hand and pushed toward him, walking him back, hips pinning him against the wall of the dilapidated shed. Without warning, Negan pushed his lips against Carl’s and opened his mouth. Carl was ready to taste himself on Negan’s tongue. It intoxicated him, making him dizzy with disbelief. He could taste blood from what was left of Peterson mixing with saliva but Carl didn’t care as long as Negan didn’t stop.

Negan’s hands gripped the side of his head as he deepened the kiss, licking into Carl’s mouth rough and hard. His teeth bruised Carl’s lip which he wished would sting for a long time. Whimpering into his mouth, Carl felt Negan’s dick hard against his hip, grinding into him, making him feel high.

Pushing his own quickly hardening cock back against Negan’s, Carl’s stomach churned agreeably at the way Negan’s fingers were pulling through his hair. In the back of his mind he had the passing worry that he’d lost his bandage but then Negan bit his lip and made him immediately forget.

Impatiently, Carl’s fingers began to search for the zipper of Negan’s pants, wanting desperately to hold his dick firmly in his grip. Get it in his mouth. Get it in his ass. Wherever the hell Negan wanted to put it.

Just as he reached in and felt the hard length of him, Negan pulled away, gripping Carl’s wrist tight.

“No,” he comanded.

Carl didn’t have time to protest as Negan’s lips silenced him and he continued rutting against Carl. His face was rough, stubble scratched against his skin reminding Carl of who he was with.

When Negan suddenly seemed distracted, Carl realized that he was reaching into his own jeans, gripping his dick. Inhaling sharply, Carl pulled away to see what little he could of Negan’s cock bobbing in and out of his hand. He couldn’t pull his eye away from the sight, only wishing he was the one doing that to him.

As Negan hitched his breath, Carl tore himself away from it to meet his eyes. With his mouth relaxed open, Negan was looking directly at him. His own dick twitched, hard once again behind his jeans.

Quickly, he reached his hand back in, still sticky from come, and he slicked his fist back over his dick, shuddering into his hand.

Before he realized it, Negan was leaning in again meeting his lips. They fought rough and hard against each other’s mouths, daring the other to push more. Bite harder. Anything to feel each other there. Both stroking in time.

Carl didn’t last long as he came a second time in his pants, dick raw and sensitive, he shuddered against Negan. Listening closely at the panting, pained breaths. His forehead pushed against Carl’s almost tenderly, and his mouth puffed warm air over his lips.

Looking down, Carl watched as Negan finished pulling at his hard, leaking cock. The tip glistened from wetness in the dark light. With a soft, hitched breath, Negan moaned and Carl watched anxiously as he came over his fist.

Skin tingling, Carl wished more than anything he could taste him.

After the wave of contentment began to wear off, Carl looked up questioningly stunned, trying to figure out where they were supposed to go from there.

Negan had his eyes closed, relaxed and calm. Finally, he laughed softly, “That was _fucked_ up.”

“Which part?” Carl asked, breathless. “Fucking _him_ up or fucking _me_ up?” His voice scratched, honestly wondering.

Opening his eyes, he looked directly at Carl. He bit his lip as he ran his fingers through Carl’s hair, now slicked back with sweat. “Both,” he huffed. “But fuck, was it fun.”

Smiling, Carl’s heart settled in his chest. Negan was finally with him. He’d gotten him on board. And it felt fucking fantastic.

“There are a few gang raping jocks in the next town over,” Carl suggested.

Negan laughed and pulled away from him. Tucking himself back in, he said, “Shit, let’s get this asshole taken care of first.”

Carl couldn’t disagree with that.

For the first time, maybe in his entire life, Carl finally felt perfectly, beautifully sated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so sorry for the long wait! I know I've told a few people, but I started working three jobs and it's been more difficult for me to find time to write/edit. It might take a little longer between updates but there's still more to go! Thank you so much for reading even though this isn't a completed story yet. I can't express how much I appreciate all of your comments and encouragement!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading and commenting. You guys keep me going! And I fucking love the tumblr love and fanart I've seen! You guys fuckin' rock. You keep me motivated, I can't stress that enough!

Bliss didn’t last long.

Carl was still stunned from everything that had happened. Leaving Negan and the majority of his clothes behind, he changed into a clean outfit at the truck, as part of their plan. Then he drove it back to Negan’s house.

The drive was eerily quiet. Carl was hyper away of every slight noise around him. He didn’t know what Negan’s plan was to get rid of the body and he didn’t _want_ to know. Negan had been right on that account, it was safer not to be involved.

His heart still raced. Carl’s middle finger twitched around the wheel at the remembrance of Negan’s tongue there not long ago. So much had just fucking happened. He wasn’t sure what to process first.

So he kept his mind blank, driving in silence. On autopilot.

Eventually he made it back. Somehow he managed to get himself into the shower and wash the blood, and regrettably Negan, off.

Everything had gone exactly as planned.

But his skin still buzzed and itched. His stomach was nervous.

Carl pulled on his boxers. He had left clothes at Negan’s for exactly this purpose, but he ignored the rest of them and grabbed one of Negan’s shirts from his drawer. Pulling it over his head, he replaced the bandage over his wound and walked hesitantly to Negan’s bed.

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. Maybe never again.

When he closed his eye he kept seeing Negan, brutal and savage. He could hear his laugh. He could remember his tilted hips flush against him. The fact that he’d _actually_ done that at all, _actually_ looked at Carl with carnality and intention, if even for a moment, made Carl’s chest clench tight. He never thought anyone would look at him the way Negan did.

He would have thought it impossible, but Carl fell asleep to memories of Negan against his lips.

* * *

The next time Carl cracked his eye open, he saw morning light had filtered through. He turned and found the bed empty. The room was just as he left it before passing out. A sharp panic sent him bolting up, pushing covers off of him. Maybe Negan hadn’t made it back. Maybe someone had caught him in the middle of disposing the body? Carl’s mind scrambled to think of a way to get Negan off the hook. It surprised him to find in that moment he’d lie to Rick, tell him whatever he needed to get him to believe it was self defense. He no longer cared about how it made him look.

“Negan?” He called as he opened the door and walked down the hall. “Ne-” stopping suddenly he saw him laying on the couch.

“Fuck,” Negan groaned and threw and arm over his eyes.

Carl’s heartbeat began to slow, “You scared the shit out of me!” He saw that Negan had a sheet draped over his legs, stopping at his hips. A white tank top was riding high on his abdomen. Carl’s first thought was that he wanted to climb on top of those hips. Breathing heavy, he shook himself from his imagination. 

“Fuck, kid,” Negan’s voice was gravelly and low. “I barely fuckin’ slept.”

“Why didn’t you sleep in your room?”

Negan scoffed and moved his arm. Peering at Carl he said, “I passed the fuck out as soon as I could.”

“Is everything,” Carl paused, “You know?”

“We’re golden, Ponyboy,” he closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face.

Carl stood awkwardly, not knowing what he was waiting for. He inhaled and said, “Why don’t you go to your bed now?”

“That sounds fan- _fuckin_ -tastic, but _you’re_ staying out here.”

“I wasn’t going to-”

“I did the heavy lifting. You take care of the clothes. Everything is in the bathroom,” Negan sat slowly and rubbed his eyes.

Carl nodded and watched Negan stand. Rolling his shoulder in a stretch, he walked down the hallway and into his room, door closing tightly behind him.

It wasn’t long before Carl had disposed of all of their clothes. Methodical and thorough, he worked through the task paying close attention to every detail ensuring that it was done properly. 

Feeling exhausted, Carl returned to Negan’s room. He saw Negan laying on his stomach on top of his blankets. His back was rising slowly and rhythmically as Carl crept closer to his side of the bed. He ignored the thought of _having_ a side. Crawling next to Negan, he laid down and watched the rise and fall of his back. Negan’s tattoos were very visible and Carl suddenly wondered why he’d never studied them closer.

His hand reached out to delicately graze the skin of his shoulder. Carl’s mind was blank as his fingers lightly traced the deeply embedded ink. He couldn’t focus long enough to form a coherent thought.

When his eye traced up to Negan’s face he saw Negan was looking back at him. It made Carl’s stomach jump. Instantly, rapid images of the previous night flashed in his mind. Negan’s lips on his, watching Negan beat himself off. Licking the come off of his finger. Carl felt his dick twitch and begin to fill at the memory.

 _“That_ was a mistake,” Negan said firmly.

Carl knew immediately he wasn’t talking about the murder. _“You_ started it,” he replied simply.

Scoffing, Negan retorted, “ _You_ started _that_ shit show.”

“Not last night,” Carl smirked at him. “Deny it all you want, but I _know_ you want it, Negan.”

“I don’t have to deny _shit_ . Pretty sure I blatantly _told_ you I want your ass.”

“So,” Carl’s heart raced at Negan’s admission, “What the hell is the problem again?”

“Jesus Christ,” Negan sighed. “If we were just fuckin’ around it wouldn’t be a big deal, alright? I mean, we still _wouldn’t_ because you’re a goddamn _student,_ but if you were just a guy and I was just a guy and there we were with each other’s dicks down our throats, then fine. But Christ, kid, there’s a hell of a lot of drama wrapped up in all this shit. And I don’t think I need to tell you how hard our little extracurricular activity gets me, that is _not_ the problem here. The problem is, it doesn’t _help_ when you add it to the rest of this equation _._ I can only break so many laws at a time, alright? I can only keep track of so much shit at once. So just, for now, put your dick away, okay? You _still_ want to fuck that bad after graduation then sign me the hell up.”

Negan’s tirade turned Carl on. There was no denial. No weak attempt to backtrack on his behavior from the night before. And Carl was stuck somewhere around thinking about Negan’s dick down his throat.

It made his mouth water.

“You _mean_ that?” Breathless, Carl asked. Sheepishly, he turned to see Negan’s eyes roam over his face. Starting with his wound then pausing on his lips.

Negan brought his bottom lip into his mouth and bit. He lifted an eyebrow and said, “Yeah.” Smiling wide he continued, “I’ve thought of a _few_ things I want to do to you.”

Carl groaned and closed his eye. He tried to will his erection away but his imagination wouldn’t allow it. He was so fucking hard and this time he didn’t bother hiding it from Negan.

* * *

It was routine for Carl to ignore Negan at school. They had an unspoken arrangement. It was far past the time for Carl to be participating in the class but they both agreed that it would be best if he sat on the sidelines. Less interaction, less attention from others. Carl knew his fine motor skills were nearly back to normal, but more importantly he knew it was vital to not publicly push his boundary with Negan.

So far no one had seemed to notice the weird relationship between them. After hours, he didn’t hide it, but he didn’t advertise that he was going to Negan’s house. The relaxing nights of watching TV soon turned into devising the best strategies for capturing their next target.

They sat at Negan’s kitchen table, pizza boxes open, empty on the counter. A sprawl of paper lay disheveled as Carl shifted through and grabbed one he had been searching for.

“You’ve read over this?”

“Yeah,” Negan replied tersely.

“You on board with this?”

Pausing a moment, Negan looked out the window in his kitchen. “Yes,” he replied confidently.

Carl sighed a breath of relief. The transcripts from the court case didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was an increasing common case of college football players gang raping a young woman and getting off the hook. The distance was something they’d have to deal with, but Carl was confident that at least one of them was going to pay.

“You have any bright ideas how we’re going to get him alone, take him somewhere secure, and fuck him with a little karma?”

Furrowing his brow, Carl said, “Just, let me think.”

Negan chuckled, “I think I might have this one.”

“Yeah? How?”

“Right so, the kid is what? Twenty years old? Sophomore year? Maybe there’s a football scout that happens to be in the area? Offers him some tips and a chance to network.”

Smiling wide, Carl said, “Damn, that’s good.”

Negan’s eyes shone brightly as he flashed his dimples at Carl. The fluttering in his stomach made him feel invincible. He remembered how those lips had covered his own, willingly and hungry. And all he could think about was getting back to that place. Negan came alive with the bat in his grip and Carl knew he’d never get enough of it.

“You’re fuckin’ adorable when you blush,” Negan smirked.

Carl dropped his smile to glare embarrassingly at Negan.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to make it stop. But fuck, I’m feeling great. This is the first time in years I’ve truly felt alive. The first time since-” Negan stopped and dropped him smile.

“Your wife?” Carl asked quietly, no longer annoyed.

Negan didn’t answer the question but he did continue, “What we’re doing? I’m not going to fuckin’ pretend it’s right, but sometimes the law isn’t right. And I can’t wait to deliver that fucking shit of human scum what he deserves.”

And Carl couldn’t wait to see Negan in action.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of chapter 9

“You really think this is the best way to do it?” Carl asked skeptically.

Negan was leaning against a tree, cigarette in his mouth, he narrowed his eyes at Carl. Grabbing the cigarette between his fingers, he studied the house across the street. “Fuck no,” he scoffed then took another drag. He blew smoke in Carl’s direction adding a wink.

Waving the air, Carl asked, “Why the hell do you smoke? It’s disgusting.”

Smiling wide, he replied sarcastically, “Yeah, but it just makes me look _so_  cool.” Throwing the butt on the ground he added, “Don’t you even _think_ of fuckin’ starting. You’ve got that hard-core, anarchist, skull wound going for you. I’m just keeping up with the image of this little fuckin’ club.”

Carl shifted uncomfortable at the mention of his eye as Negan turned back to the house.

“We’re not even sure he’s going to be here.”

“Trust me, kid. He’ll be here.”

It was dark and Negan and Carl had been staked outside of the frat house for nearly an hour. The trip to the city had taken them several hours where they’d had time to work out the details. There had been a case a year ago about the star athlete of the local college initiating a group rape against his date the night after a big win.

According to the outcome of the trial, it was the typical story of the girl ‘changing her mind to ruin some innocent boy’s reputation.’ Carl saw the pictures on the internet. He’d read the transcript from the trail. And thanks to all the “studying” he’d done in his dad’s office, he’d gotten access to the police report complete with photographs of injuries from the medical file. It was fucking horrendous, and the asshole got a celebration in his honor for defeating the _slanderous bitch_.

It didn’t take any convincing from Carl to get Negan to agree to this one.

It was a night after another big game and Bryce Brooks was expected to show.

“Don’t you think it’s creepy as hell that you’re just standing out here?”

“Creepy? You’re fuckin’ right it’s creepy as shit and it’s dangerous besides. This one is a much higher profile.” Negan scoffed, “And what the hell else you want to do about it, anyway? I can’t exactly go into the frat house and try to recruit him. If it was a bar it’d be fucking perfect.”

“Look,” Carl took a deep breath, “I think I should go in.”

“Fuck no.”

“We need to see if he’s _actually_ in there.” Carl shook his head and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. Furrowing his brow, he asked, “But yeah, _you_ can do it. Unless you tell them you’re the grandpa that lives next door. The partying is too loud and all the co-eds need to get the hell off your lawn.” Glaring into Negan’s eyes, Carl watched with baited breath as Negan stepped closer to him. Suddenly hyper aware, the air between them became electric as Negan leaned in closer.

His calm serious face broke into a wide smile, “You _love_ my geriatric ass. I can smell that stiffy you’re sporting from here.” Leaning in next to his ear, Negan whispered, “And when I finally _allow_ you to ride my dick, you’re gonna be begging me for more. Shit, you’re already begging and I haven’t even given it to you yet.”

Closing his eye, Carl focused on slowing his breath. It was a low shot, but effective. And hearing Negan actually say those words instead of merely imply it made Carl shiver. Opening his eye again he replied, “You’re an ass.”

Showing his dimples, Negan simply said, “I know.” Then he backed away from him.

Taking a deep breath, Carl said, “I’m going in.” Then turned ready to cross the street.

“Don’t talk to him! And sure as fuck don’t be seen with him.”

Ignoring the hushed protestation of Negan behind him, Carl walked confidently toward the house. He’d never actually been to a party before, let alone a college one, but he figured as long as no one noticed his eye he could blend in well enough. Better than Negan at any rate.

Carl ran his fingers through his hair to make sure it properly covered his wound, then sidestepped a few people at the front of the lawn. The music echoed louder with every step. He would have been surprised that the cops hadn’t already shown up if he didn’t already know that the jocks of this school were above the law.

Sticking his hands in his hoodie pocket he walked to the side of the house. A bon fire burned warming the backyard and several people gathered around it. For a moment, Carl felt a pang of jealousy. It all seemed so normal. Guys with their girlfriends draped in their laps, people laughing into bottles before they tipped them back. It was something he had once wanted for himself.

But he also felt bad for them. In their short lives they would never have the kind of impact on the world that Carl did. These were exactly the kind of people who didn’t have empathy for the weak. These were the people who made others suffer. The ones who believed they were above humanity and all its weaknesses. The ones who acted like it was their job to force everyone else to be beneath them.

As he was about to turn around and walk into the house from the rear entrance, he saw him. Bryce walked outside helping carry a keg with another guy.

Carl froze. This was it. He was going to see Negan in full action.

For a moment Carl felt a twinge of apprehension. Seeing Bryce so alive, laughing with friends and smiling into the night suddenly made him question their plan. Then he saw him squeeze the ass of a girl as she walked past.

At first Carl wondered if it was his girlfriend, but the shocked and uneasy glare made it obvious to him that she wasn’t. She quickly scurried away with a friend wrapping her arm in the girl’s and directed her toward the house. Both seemed upset and appeared to talk in hushed tones as they stood outside the door.

Carl walked over toward them carefully. He was glad as hell that it was dark and his hair was still covering his eye. He choked back his nerves and approached them.

“Hey,” he smiled and nodded. “Sorry, I was just wondering, have you seen a tall guy pass by here? Red hair and goatee? You’d know him if you saw him.”

“Sorry, don’t think so,” the friend answered. “Are you a freshman?”

Smiling, Carl lied, “You caught me.”

“I like your hair,” the other girl spoke up. "There aren't many guys that have long hair these days."

“Thanks,” Carl’s heart was pounding. It wasn’t like he had a problem talking to people when he had to, but he was never around people who didn’t already know about his eye. Everyone else was hesitant and careful around him, or ignored him all together. These girls were much more open than he was used to.

“They’re tapping the keg if you want something to drink. You just have to sidestep all the assholes.”

“Oh yeah?” His stomach jumped seeing his opening, “What do you have an ex over there or something?”

The girl scoffed, “No, we just have the nerve to have tits and an ass and to exist in their general area.”

Carl smiled knowingly, “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“That’s Bryce the fucking dipshit rapist and all his fuckin’ groupies.”

“Oh, yeah I heard about that. That’s him?”

“That’s the shitstain.”

“I thought he was innocent?” Carl asked.

Both girls choked back a scoff. The friend said sarcastically, “Sure. And he was innocent of the fifty other assaults too.”

“Someone should shove a broomstick up his ass. Fuck, I don’t even know why we came to this thing,” the girl said.

Her friend smiled at Carl and took a step closer, “I dunno, I’m kind of glad we came. I’m Emma. What’s your name? What are you majoring in?”

Suddenly surprised, Carl’s jaw hung open. “Uh,” he fumbled, “Trevor.” Good old imaginary Trevor. Carl turned back to Bryce to watch closely.

Emma stepped in front of him, making it impossible to ignore her. Suddenly, it felt like Carl was actually seeing her. She was slender and had long wavy brown hair. Her clothes were tight and he couldn’t help but glance quickly at her cleavage.

She noticed and smiled, “You’re not drunk enough yet, are you?”

Carl felt a pang in his chest realizing that this is how he’d be treated if he was still completely intact. Neither one of these girls would have said a word to him if they’d noticed what he really looked like.

Emma stepped closer to him, putting her hand on his arm. She leaned in to whisper, “You’re fuckin’ hot. Are you on campus? What dorm are you in?”

His heart was pounding. Out of everything he had anticipated for the night, getting hit on by hot college girls was not on the list. And she looked very tempting.

Suddenly, a loud roar of people cheered near the keg. Carl turned to see Bryce and the other teammates doing keg stands.

Emma leaned closer into his arm and looked back up at him pushing her breasts against him.

He wanted to think about how close she was and how good she smelled but he couldn’t stop wondering why she didn’t notice his wound. And what she’d say when she finally did. If she’d call him a freak. If she’d say anything or just walk away.

His back pocket buzzed. Closing his eye, he reached into it and grabbed his phone. “Uh, just a second,” he said and took a step away to check it.

Swiping the screen he saw a message from Negan.

_You getting your dick wet or what?_

“Hey, it’s that friend I was looking for,” Carl started awkwardly. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Don’t make me wait long!” Emma said smiling.

Glancing again to Bryce, he turned and walked away. Jamming his hands in his hoodie pocket, he focused on walking fast toward where he’d left Negan.

Negan was sitting in his truck now parked at the corner of the block. Carl slid into the passenger’s seat and turned to Negan, “He’s there.”

“Pretty fuckin’ hard to miss him when he’s preening all over the yard.”

“You saw him?”

“Yeah. So are we still doing this are did you want to go back and fuck the brunette?”

“What?” Carl asked taken aback.

“She’s a hot little thing. You should go hit that. She was into you.”

“How the hell can you _possibly_ know that? How did you even see her?”

Negan handed Carl a pair of binoculars and nodded toward the house. Carl could see he had a perfect view of the yard.

“She wanted you, kid.”

Carl blushed and shoved the binoculars back in Negan’s hand. “Yeah, until she sees this,” he pointed to his face.

Negan didn’t reply. He was being oddly quiet.

“Wait,” Carl paused, “Wait, you're not  _jealous_ are you?” He smiled wide and looked at Negan.

Rolling his eyes, he looked at Carl in the dark of the car. “Kid, you have got a hell of a lot of living to do. What we’re doing is beyond fucked up, and I’m not just talking about the bat in back seat. You should go back there. Go give her a ride. Show her the _real_ one-eyed-Carl.” Negan nudged his shoulder teasingly.

“God, that was bad. Even for you.” Smiling, Carl shook his head, “No. I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to do. And besides we have _plans._ ”

“Oh, you can break your date with me. I’m a big boy, I think I can handle it,” Negan smirked.

Carl shook his head again, “They said there were other allegations against Bryce. It seems like it’s pretty common knowledge that he’s raped quite a few women. They probably didn’t want to speak up after what they saw the first girl go through at the trial.”

Negan studied him carefully, making Carl nervous. The car was dark but he could see the light from the street reflecting in Negan’s eyes.

“We _have_ to do this, Negan,” Carl said.

Negan shrugged, “Don’t need to convince me twice about this piece of shit.”

* * *

Getting to Bryce without anyone seeing wasn’t nearly as difficult as Carl had expected and they didn’t have to use Negan as a NFL recruiter. They waited and watched until he had walked to the property line alone. That’s when Carl approached him. Negan told him to offer him some coke. Carl rolled his eye but did as instructed, and Bryce followed willingly.

Carl instructed him to lean into Negan’s truck.

“Shit, man! I hear you’re hookin’ me up,” he said.

“You’re goddamn right,” Negan smiled. “I’m a big fan of yours. Great game.”

Carl’s blood pounded through his veins as he watched Negan bullshit with Bryce. Bryce climbed into the truck and Carl joined him, pushing him closer to Negan. Barely before the door was even shut, Negan wrapped a bag around Bryce’s head and held tight.

Kicking into Carl, Bryce struggled, fighting against Negan. He knew this was part of the plan but Carl hadn’t considered how strong he’d be.

Negan wrapped his arm around Bryce’s neck to hold the bag tight against his mouth. Watching wide eyed as the bag puffed, Carl grasped hard to Bryce’s legs as he tried to kick and scratch at Negan’s arm around his neck.

Breathing heavily, Carl focused on Negan’s arm, flexing tight around the guy’s neck. He watched as Negan laughed quietly through panting breaths.

As Bryce began to calm down, his legs twitched a few more times in Carl’s arms.

Negan let his arm relax and Bryce dropped limp in the seat. “Carl, tie his hands and his feet,” Negan ordered, as he started the truck.

Grabbing rope from the footwell, Carl wrapped his feet tight, listening to his heart race as Negan drove off.

“Goddamn!” Negan smiled wide flashing his dimples.

Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins. Carl tied Bryce’s wrists together and listened to Negan’s quiet laughs next to him.

“Did anyone see?”

Negan smirked, “Hell no! You think I would have done that shit on the side of the road if there were some bastards walking by? Fuck no. Fuck.” He smiled breathlessly.

Carl couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. Negan’s hands wrapped tight around the wheel, flexing his arms as he gripped harder.

“You got that rag ready? I don’t know how long he’ll be out so just keep putting it over his nose every once and awhile. It’ll still be about another half hour before we get there.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way out of town, as if talking about anything might jinx it. Negan had already located a remote area in the woods outside the city. Carl’s stomach jumped at how much Negan was taking over. At times he might act reluctant but Carl knew how much he loved it, deep down. The way his eyes lit up and how he talked, he radiated exhilaration and it was infectious. It was like watching a kid on Christmas morning and Carl just needed to see Negan beat the shit out of his present.

Negan turned the lights of his truck off as he drove down a rough, unpaved road. With each bump and crunch of loose rock, Carl’s heart pounded faster. Finally, Negan parked. Carl quickly jumped out and grabbed the duffle bag from the bed of the truck. He turned around to see Negan pulling Bryce’s unconscious body from the front seat. Effortlessly, Negan hoisted the limp body over his shoulder and they both silently walked further into the woods.

After a short time, they finally reached their destination. Negan dropped Bryce carelessly, a loud thump echoing into the night as he hit the ground. Quickly, Carl worked to grab a gag and wrapped it tight around his mouth.

Negan was sorting through the bag when Carl turned back to him. He pulled out a bat and began swinging it through the air. Watching his shoulders move and twist went straight to Carl’s dick. More than anything he wished he could wrap his fingers through Negan’s hair and pull him in, taste his skin and feel his tight grip on him.

Carl found himself walking toward him.

Negan stopped swinging and smiled down at him, grin shining bright in the dark night. “You are a fucked up little genius, you know that?”

Carl couldn’t help himself, he took a step closer and ran his hand over Negan’s chest. He was firm and his heart pounded hard. Carl would do anything to be able to scratch his nails down Negan’s naked chest. To mark his flesh with any kind of evidence the prove he’d been there.

“Carl,” Negan warned.

He didn’t give a shit. With his hand snaking around Negan’s neck, he pulled him in and met his lips.

Sighing, Carl’s stomach jumped when he felt Negan kiss back. He was surprised when Negan’s hands ran through his hair, making him shiver. Hot mouth, biting against his lips. The burn of Negan’s facial hair grazed coarse and scratched against Carl’s cheek. He trembled when Negan walked him backwards until he felt a tree at his back.

Carl bucked against him, and pulled him close at the chest. Negan’s lips left his mouth and he kissed hot trails along the side of his jaw until he bit the tender spot of Carl’s neck. With the sharp pain of teeth sinking into him, Carl moaned and arched into the touch, wanting more. _Anything._ Whatever Negan would give him.

While Negan bit and sucked against his neck, Carl’s fingers roamed from Negan’s side to the front of his jeans. He could feel Negan hard behind his jeans. It was intoxicating. But before he had a chance to reach his zipper, Carl heard a loud pained moan coming from behind Negan.

Stopping immediately, Negan pulled away from Carl. They both watched to see Bryce roll on his side and squint into the dark night.

“What the hell?” Carl could make out Bryce mumbling, muffled as he called around the gag.

Automatically, he and Negan both stopped touching at the same time, and turned to watch him.

He was staring back up at them, wide eyed. Terrified.

“Well, what the _hell_  is right!” Negan strolled over to him.

Carl followed behind, moving the bag out of Bryce’s reach, guarding it carefully.

Crouching down, Negan grabbed the kid and adjusted him until he was kneeling in front of them. Leaning in close, Carl watched as Negan studied his face. Bryce was breathing heavily.

“Now, I’m gonna take this gag off and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut, right? See, if you _don’t_ I’m gonna have to do something you might not like.”

His eyes glistened in the dark, they turned to plead to Carl.

Negan removed the gag. “That’s better! We _can’t_ have a fucking conversation with you all mute as fuck. Well, we could but I’d like to get your insight on a few things.”

Carl’s stomach jumped watching Negan with Bryce, calm and in complete control. His voice falsely saccharine, saying one thing but the threat underneath was palpable.

Standing from his kneeling position, Negan ordered, “Don’t move a goddamn inch or I will shove this bat _so far_ up your ass you’ll be tasting splinters.”

“Whatever the hell you want, man, I can get it. I can get you anything. My dad is rich. He’s-”

“Now that’s a fine fuckin’ starting point,” Negan interrupted. “How many times has your daddy gotten you out of trouble before?”

“I- I-” he stuttered, confused, “What do you want? I can get you anything!” He continued.

Smiling, showing off his dimples, Negan turned back to Carl, “What do you think, kid? You want some money? A couple hundred thousand to get you through college?”

Carl’s heart raced as he narrowed his eye at Bryce, “Not exactly what I was thinking.”

“You hear that?” Negan turned back to Bryce. “Not what the kid wants. Now see,” Negan began to pace, swinging his bat as he slowly walked around him, “I know what _I_ want out of this, but the kid needs to get off too. I’m a gentleman, you know? It can’t all be about _me_.”

Grimacing, Bryce pleaded, “Tell me what you want and you and your son can have it!”

Negan stopped walking. Smirking, he leaned back and lifted his brows in amusement as he met Carl’s eye. Smiling, Negan sauntered over to Carl and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “So, what’ll it be, son?”

Carl’s stomach jumped, hearing Negan call him that. He tried to hold back his dark smile and calm his beating heart. The weight of Negan’s arm around his shoulders and the now familiar scent of his cologne made him feel at home. In that moment he realized he was the happiest he could remember being since before his accident.

Leaning closer to Bryce, Carl said, “We _know_ what you did to Anne Marie.”

Scoffing, the kid frowned, “Is _that_ what this is about? That bitch hire you to do this? Look, if she’s your girlfriend or whatever, she fuckin’ wanted it, okay? The court seemed to think so too.”

Narrowing his eye, Carl looked to Negan and nodded.

Stepping away from Carl, Negan twirled his bat while whistling. He smiled dangerously before he swung and the bat connected solidly on the kid’s shoulder.

Bryce toppled over in pain, wincing as he gripped his shoulder. He struggled to sit back up, “Fuck!”

“You raise your voice again and the next swing will be right across your goddamn jaw,” Negan threatened.

Rubbing his shoulder, Bryce pleaded, “ _What_ do you want? Huh? What does _she_ want?”

“She probably wants to forget she ever met you,” Carl answered.

“And she _probably_ wants to stick rebar up your dick-hole. So, let’s just cut the bullshit right now, huh kid?” Negan began to pace in front of Bryce. “We know you’re a filthy fucking rapist.”

“She lied-”

“Ah-ah-” Negan smirked, “Do _not_ interrupted me, kid. Do I _look_ like I’m in a forgiving mood?”

Bryce held his wounded arm tight. Carl could see the anger behind his eyes. He no longer seemed to be scared of them which was unfortunate for him.

Negan held out the bat pointing to his chin. “You’ll have to forgive us, see we’re a little new to this scene. And while I’m not _particularly_ motivated to do any kind of _live_ dismemberment, the kid here might not feel the same.”

“What the hell?” Bryce swore. Carl watched with baited breath as he struggled to stand.

Negan looked to Carl questioningly. Nodding back at him, Carl watched wide-eyed as Negan lifted his bat and swung down hard connecting with the top of Bryce’s skull.

“Sit _the hell_ down,” Negan replied simply.

He coughed and groaned into the dirt.

Carl walked over to him and watched closely as he winced, collapsing into the ground.

Negan stood behind him. Speaking softly behind his ear, his voice sent chills down Carl’s spine, “You are _fucked_ up, you know that?”

Turning back to him, Carl asked, “What’s that make you?”

Seeing his wide grin in response was enough to make Carl half hard. Negan’s eyes lit up and focused intently on him. He could almost forget about Bryce if it weren’t for the choking coughs.

Negan licked his bottom lip and answered, “ _I_ most _certainly_ am fucked up.”

Carl reached out to him, pulling his head gently encouraging him to come closer until finally Negan’s lips were once again on his. Negan’s free hand snaked up and slipped through his hair. It made him shiver and his heart race. Tasting him on his lips was nearly enough to forget the reason they were out there. Until they both stopped abruptly at the sound of dirt scratching away from them.

Bryce had hobbled up and was attempting to run.

Negan smiled dangerously and walked over to him with purpose. He twirled the bat in the air once before swinging with intention. He hit Bryce hard on the back.

“Now that- _that_ was for drugging her.” He swung again, landing the next blow on his shoulder, “ _That_ was for inviting the team over to have a turn at her.” Another smack hit him in the head, “For recording it.” Negan’s chest heaved and his muscles flexed as he brought the bat down again and again, “For making her _bleed_.” He laughed, “Only fair to spill a little blood too, right?”

Carl was breathless. With each driving swing from Negan and pleading call from Bryce, Carl felt vindicated. The pictures the girl submitted as evidence were horrendous and the only regret Carl felt was that Negan wasn’t shoving the bat up the kid's ass to make him match. But even _they_ had principles. Carl couldn’t pull his eye away from Negan. The way the moon delicately lit his body through the trees as he glided around Bryce, smiling. He flashed his white teeth in the dark and it had Carl so fucking hard. With each smile and laugh and lean down closer to taunt the kid, Carl felt his heart swell and tighten in his chest.

As Bryce continued to protest through broken sobs, Negan only shone brighter. Like each plea he could pull from the kid was a hit of fresh air. Carl liked seeing him in pain but not as much as he enjoyed the sinful bliss behind Negan’s eyes.

Aching in his jeans, Carl took a step closer. Placing his hand on Negan’s shoulder he spoke softly, “Negan.”

Negan lowered the bat and looked at him. He had that same burning need firing desperately in his eyes and it made Carl’s stomach jump.

“I think you should-”

“Right,” Negan agreed, smiling wide.

He quickly turned back to Bryce and in one fluid motion he swung the bat down hard. The dull thud of wood connecting with his skull was enough for Carl to moan quietly. He felt drops of blood speckle his face as the bat lifted, again and again Negan swung until he was no longer making any noise.

When Negan lowered the bat, he stood back, stunned at the motionless body before him. Carl looked at it too as he dared to let his hand roam over Negan’s arm. He reached tentatively for the bat, forcing Negan to drop it.

Turning to him suddenly, Negan grabbed Carl’s head and guided him toward his mouth. Carl gasped as Negan recklessly kissed him, tasting his tongue and feeling warm breath over his face.

With his hands on Carl’s shoulders, Negan walked him backward until he was firmly against a tree. Carl panted desperately as Negan’s callused hands lifted his shirt. His stomach fluttered as he felt those warm rough fingers trace up his chest and thumb over his nipple. He moaned into Negan’s mouth, arching his body into him, not so silently begging for more.

Closing his eye he focused on the scent and feel of Negan all around him. Hands exploring his chest and his hip, until finally Negan pulled his mouth away. Carl felt a lump in the back of his throat at the loss of Negan’s lips. Confused and angry, Carl opened his eye and was surprised to find Negan falling to his knees in front of him.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered breathlessly as he watched Negan’s heavy fingers rip open the button on his jeans and force them down.

Negan looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes, fisting Carl’s dick over his boxers. Licking his bottom lip, Negan reached in, grasping him firmly.

Carl shivered into the unexpected touch, swearing into the comfort of the night around them. Before he realized it, Negan had his lips wrapped snuggly around his cock, moaning against him.

“Fuck,” Carl bucked into the warm heat. His heart pounded hard and his stomach jumped. He was in disbelief that Negan, _Negan,_ had _his_ dick in his mouth, licking and sucking and pulling every curse Carl could think from his lips.

Those rough hands that had just taken the life of someone not twenty feet from him, now wrapped around his hips. He pulled Carl deep into his mouth, making Carl double over.

Running his fingers through Negan’s hair, Carl squeezed his eye closed tight as he felt waves of pleasure run to the base of his spine. Electricity shooting through, making him forget everything. Distantly, Carl knew he should warn Negan, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work with each bob of Negan’s hot tongue over his hard, weeping cock. Carl fisted Negan’s hair tight as he came over his tongue, panting and sweating with each pump of his dick.

Negan moaned obscenely, and pulled away slowly.

Carl’s chest heaved, heavy and uneven. He looked down breathlessly, loosening his grip from Negan’s hair. He felt like he was about to fall over.

Those familiar white teeth and dimpled grin smiled back at him. He watched Negan pull away from him as he quickly stood. Before Carl could panic, Negan ran his fingers through Carl’s hair and kissed him softly, pinning him against the tree.

Sighing around the taste of himself on Negan’s tongue, Carl returned the kiss. His heart raced hard and the cool air of the night made him shiver. His unsettled thoughts raced around the knowledge of what Negan’s lips felt like wrapped tight around him.

In that moment, Carl could only be thankful for every little mistake in his life that had somehow driven him to Negan. The way his arms wrapped around him suddenly made everything worth it.

His hands fumbled around the waist of Negan’s pants. Smiling against his lips, Carl rubbed his hands over the outside of the fabric feeling the hard prick underneath.

Negan laughed back against his lips and quickly helped Carl unzip his jeans.

His heart started racing again as he watched Negan pull his cock out. Nervously, he reached out, testing the silky feel of it beneath his fingertips. He wrapped his hand around it, eliciting a moan of appreciation from Negan.

He wanted Negan’s dick in his mouth. Never before had Carl considered just how _much_ he wanted it, but with Negan smiling and softly moaning in front of him he realized just how much he _needed_ to taste him. The feeling of his heart beating solidly beneath his chest was a reminder of how Negan could make him feel. Alive and untamed. Wondering quietly how long he could hold on to this trance Negan had him under. Hoping desperately that he’d never get used to it.

Building his courage, Carl sank to his knees.

As he stroked timidly, Negan quietly whispered, “Stop.”

Looking up, Carl parted his lips about to speak.

“Come here,” Negan interrupted. With his hand against Carl’s jaw he encouraged him to stand.

His heart sank as he felt that he’d somehow fucked it up. Carl stood reluctantly. Before he had a chance to question him, Negan’s lips were back on his. His tongue persistently teasing Carl’s own. He couldn’t forget, but Negan quickly eased the grip of his hard prick from his hand.

He could feel the rhythmic pulls of Negan’s arm, stroking himself fast while his tongue fought against Carl’s. Carl’s fingers unwillingly trailed up Negan’s chest before he scratching his nails against his scalp, pulling him closer.

Sucking the sinful moan from Negan’s lips, Carl’s heart raced. This was more than he ever could have hoped for and he didn’t quite know how it had come to this; wanting to fuck his gym teacher in a forest next to a dead body. The elation seeping through his veins from Negan’s tongue trailing over his own was a dangerous reminder of the fire he was playing with. But Carl would rather die than let it end.

“Fuck,” Negan sighed, tensing quickly.

Carl felt his muscles constrict. The taut grip Negan had on himself made Carl pull away to look down just as Negan came, painting white stripes onto the dark leaf covered ground.

Without thought, Carl fell to his knees. He grabbed Negan’s relaxed hand to his mouth and wrapped his lips around Negan’s middle finger. Licking off any trace of come, Carl looked up to see Negan staring down at him, wild eyed.

He dropped Negan’s hand as Negan knelt in front of him. His strong fingers wrapped around Carl’s face and Negan kissed him once again. Hard and claiming.

When he pulled away breathless, Negan looked Carl in the eye and said, “We only do this shit here, you get me?”

Carl nodded, unable to get his mouth to work.

“If we’re going to keep doing fucking up shit then we might as do it all at once.”

Smiling, Carl asked, “Is that your excuse then?”

“Hell, yeah. If I get busted for fucking around with a student at least I’ll have a dead body next to me to distract the fuckin’ cops.” Negan stood from the ground and offered his hand to Carl, “Come on, kid. We have a lot of work to do.”


	11. Chapter 11

Carl had never considered exactly what lengths Negan went to when he _took care_ of the bodies. He’d been more focused on the act of _making_ the bodies. Seeing the lifeless form of Bryce limp on the ground didn’t evoke the kind of disgust he figured it should. Knowing what he’d put that girl through, and probably others, Carl didn’t feel any guilt. Only a strong sense of calm as he reveled in the remnants of his adrenaline.

Looking around the ground, he was sure blood was everywhere. It was dark and he knew they’d never be able to get rid of it all. He trusted Negan and followed every instruction he gave.

Holding a sharp stick, Negan asked, “Do you want the honors or should I do it?”

“What are you talking about.”

“Stab his stomach. Easier for gases to release. He’ll stay under longer this way.”

Carl looked at the stick in Negan’s hand. For all the violence, he’d mostly watched. But simply watching was starting to scratch at him. He was growing curious. He wanted to know what it was like. How Negan felt when he ended a life.

Pulling the stick back, Negan said, “Kid, it’s okay if you-”

“I want to do it,” Carl interrupted pulling the makeshift bayonet from his hand. His fingers grasped it tightly and he approached the body.

“Jab it in quick and steady. A knife would be better but this is easier to get rid of.”

Taking a deep breath, Carl squeezed his grip tight then thrust forward, burying the stick into his skin. His palm burned from the friction of it sliding against the wood. He took it out and once again drove the sharpened tip deep into his abdomen.  

As he removed it and stood back, he felt Negan’s arm wrap around his neck. His skin was warm, and the pressure was hard enough to bring him back to the moment. When he looked at Negan he saw a wide grin on his face that made his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” Negan smirked, pulling the weapon out of Carl’s hand, “Remind me not to piss you off.” As Negan removed his arm he handed Carl a large jug of peroxide.

Carl watched as Negan saturated the stick then threw it to the ground. Following his lead, they began to pour gallons of peroxide everywhere they had been, drenching every inch where they had been. Covering every centimeter of the corpse.

It would never be enough but it would help.

Next they lifted the body with gloves protecting their hands and walked carefully through the night. Carl’s arms burned and ached but he continued on despite the pain. He concentrated on Negan’s heavy breathing, pushing himself to move his feet one after the other, and counted in his mind as they slowly approached the river.

Using rope, they wrapped the body tight, adding rocks around it to provide enough weight to hold him down. Hoisting up the much heavier body, Carl hissed as freezing water seeped through his shoes with each step further into the river. It was wide and loud and he followed Negan up to waist-high water. With Negan’s instruction, they pushed it out further. Under the light of the moon Carl watched as the blurry form sank until it was no longer visible. In the morning if someone came by and knew where to look they may easily spot it, but Negan had assured him the area was remote. The chance of anyone finding it anytime soon was slim.

Carl was shivering violently as he climbed over rocks to get out of the freezing water. When he reached the bank he bent over to take his shoes off.

“Hey,” Negan called in the night air, “Not yet.”

Carl stopped. Dropping his foot, squishing beneath him he continued to follow Negan in silence. Carl was careful to step only on rocks so as not to leave any footprints embedded into the ground. Not that it would matter much. They’d be burning everything soon enough.

Negan lead them further up the river along the bank, away from his truck. Tucked under a rock were two plastic bags. Negan threw one to Carl. Hastily, he pulled off his dripping shoes and socks. Wringing them out he placed them in the bag and replaced them with dry ones.

“You ready?”

Carl nodded.

They walked back to the scene with fists wrapped tight around their bags.

“What about the bat?” Carl asked, honestly curious.

Negan picked it up, dumped peroxide over it removing any trace of blood. He tucked it in the bag. They walked back to the truck. Opening the driver’s side door he threw his bag into the middle.

“Take off your clothes,” Negan ordered.

Carl knew what he meant but that didn’t mean the command still didn’t go straight to his dick. He smirked under his hair as he undressed and put on the warm, clean clothes that had been hidden in the truck.

When he looked back, Negan already had his shirt off and was working on replacing his jeans. Carl didn’t bother turning away even though he knew his face was burning. Only about an hour ago Negan had had his tongue along Carl’s dick which twitched from the memory.

Swallowing his nerves he walked over. Scoffing, he traced the ink embedded on Negan’s chest, “You have the stupidest tattoos.”

“What the hell did you say, you little fuck?” Negan leaned back grinning.

Carl fought against it but his smile broke through.

“ _These?_  Are fuckin’ badass,” Negan reassured him.

Trailing his fingers to Negan’s left arm, “Sorry, my bad. I forgot how threatening cherubs were.”

“Fuck you,” Negan smiled.

Shaking his hair back, Carl looked directly at him, “Against the truck or on the ground?”

Negan’s eyes flashed something dangerous and feral. Carl’s heart pounded in his chest. Negan took a step closer, pinning Carl against the truck. He closed his eye as he felt Negan’s fingers sift through his hair.

Pulling to one side, he leaned in close and whispered, “Your ass better be fuckin’ ready to take my prick after you graduate, because kid, don't think for one goddamn second I won't spend _every_ waking moment with my cock splitting you in two. It’s going to take _days_ to break you in. Hell, if I could, I'd have my dick so deep inside you right now you’d be tasting it.”

Turning quickly, Carl caught Negan’s mouth on his own. He bit at his lip then licked gently into his mouth, pulling a moan from Negan’s lips.

“Why the hell are you waiting then?” He asked breathlessly.

Negan smiled, but pulled away. Wiping his mouth he said, “Because it’s the only goddamn boundary I seem to have, now get in the fuckin’ car.”

Rolling his eye, Carl said, “What the hell does it matter, Negan?"

Lifting his eyebrows, Negan replied, “Because I say it does. For now, your ass can deal with sitting in the damn truck.”

Sighing, Carl walked around to the passenger side. Climbing in, he put the bags of wet clothes together and sat, frustrated in the seat.

* * *

They had been driving for some time when Carl realized the truck had stopped moving. He’d fallen asleep and Negan was swearing into the steering wheel beside him.

Jumping from his spot, Carl looked back to see the familiar blinding red and blue lights flashing behind them.

“What the _fuck,_ Negan?”

“Just relax!” Negan reached over to glove box and pulled out his information. “I probably ran a stop sign or some bullshit. Just,” taking a deep breath he put his hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Calm _the fuck_ down. We’re almost home, only a little ways out of town. They didn’t follow us all the goddamn way from the woods so cool your shit.”

Carl’s hands were shaking. He leaned back against the seat and squeezed his eye shut tight. The air felt stagnant and suffocating. Everything was closing in on him. He stretched his legs only to kick the bags. His foot connected with the bat. Jumping up, he moved them to the other side of his feet, doing his best to shield them from view.

Hearing the muffled sound of a door slam, he turned back to see the officer walking closer. Carl was certain he was going to puke. He told himself again and again to just slow his breathing. Everything would be fine.

When the officer reached the window, Carl’s heart stopped.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Negan swore, lowering the window.

“How are you doing tonight?” The officer lifted his flashlight into the car.

Carl’s stomach dropped as he waited for the blinding light to fall.

“Carl?!” The familiar voice called into the car. “What the hell are you-” Turning to Negan, Rick demanded, “Who the hell are you?”

Negan lifted his hands calmly, “Hello there, Rick. I met your wife in the grocery store not too long ago. Name is Negan. Now, I can imagine you’re probably wondering what the hell I’m doing with Carl here. I’m a teacher at your son’s school-”

“Carl, get out of the truck,” Rick ordered. “Why the hell do _you_ have him?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Carl reached his hand out to open the door but didn’t move any further.

“Just be honest, Carl,” Negan turned to him.

Panic filled his veins as his stomach churned. “Honest?” He scratched out confused.

“Look,” Negan started, turning back to Rick. “The kid is seventeen, go easy on him, okay?”

In that moment every fiber of Carl’s being was seething. He knew it was his fault that any of the murders had happened, Negan was only looking out for him, but he never expected to be completely thrown under the bus.

Carl’s mouth hung open, speechless.

“Go easy on him?” Rick asked.

“Yeah, you know. He’s just a kid and I think this was his first party. He didn’t want his parents to find out but I was going to call and talk to you about it in the morning. He’s a smart kid. He was in a little over his head and I offered to give him a ride home.”

“A _party_?” Rick asked. “Carl, you said you were staying at your friends tonight.”

Staring at Negan, Carl sighed a breath of relief for the cover story, “Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Get out of the car, Carl,” Rick demanded. “Go get in mine. Now.”

Carl pulled at the door. He flashed a wild look at Negan who nodded back at him.

As he walked away he heard his dad say, “Thanks. Negan, was it?”

“Yeah. Kid called me and told me some friends brought some fuckin’ _party favors_ he wasn’t interested in and wanted to get the hell out of there. Don’t be too rough on him. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. Good kid you have there.”

“I appreciate you lookin’ out for him,” Rick leaned out of the window, turning away. Quickly, he turned back to Negan, “Your taillight is out.”

Carl opened the passenger door and climbed in. He didn’t know if having his dad pull them over was a stroke of luck or misfortune. He still couldn’t calm his rabbiting heart. Trying to slow his breath, he watched as his dad walked over to the driver’s side door and pulled it open.

Rick sat down and sighed. He gripped the steering wheel but didn’t show any indication that he was planning on pulling away from that spot any time soon.

“Why are you patrolling?” Carl finally asked.

“One of the guys called in a favor. I said I’d cover his shift,” Rick replied tersely.

Taking a deep breath, Carl started, “Dad-”

“Let’s not tell your mom about this.”

“What?” He asked incredulously.

“Look, I was a kid once _too_. I don’t smell any booze on you and you were smart enough to get out of there when you felt uncomfortable.”

Carl nodded, agreeing with Rick. “I went over there with some friends but it wasn’t really what I expected,” he offered vaguely. Technically he had been at a party that night. Only the goal had been reconnaissance, not socialization.

Rick shook his head, “I’m not asking for you to narc on anyone, okay? It wasn’t anything really serious was it?”

“There was some pot,” Carl shrugged, “Beer. Some other stuff. I don’t know. _I_ didn’t have any of it."

Rick stared ahead.

Carl turned to the front and watched as Negan drove off with a broken taillight.

Turning to look him in the eye, Rick said, “I know I haven’t been there all the time, Carl. Especially lately-”

“Dad,” he interrupted.

“No, let me finish. I know I throw myself into work. But you know you can call me when something like this happens right? You made the right call here, I’m _not_ going to punish you for being responsible. We just want you to be safe, alright?”

Carl nodded, not sure what to say.

“Why’d you call your _teacher,_ though?”

“Negan has been helping me at school,” he offered casually. “And _after_ school. He’s helped with my PT. Honing in on some fine motor skills. He’s the gym teacher.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I thought it was weird at first too,” he admitted. “He just didn’t like to see me sitting out. So, he’s been working with me and I dunno.” Carl shrugged. “I just know he has my back,” he looked down fighting the blush creeping over his cheeks that he was being so honest with his dad.

He swallowed and glanced up to a hurt look in Rick’s eyes.

“I would have called you, Dad,” Carl said. “But I didn’t want you to worry more than you already do.”

Rick turned back to the road. Turning the flashing lights off, he put the car into drive. “Well,” he finally said, “I’m glad you had someone to turn to.”

Carl let out a sigh of relief as his dad drove him home.

* * *

Laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Carl silently wished he was at Negan’s. It was the first time he had helped Negan _after_ the main event and Negan didn’t seem as skittish with him. He had even kissed him. He had fucking sucked him off. Carl had _tasted_ Negan.

He knew if they had shared a bed that night he could have gotten more from him. By the time he was alone with him again, Negan would certainly have his guard up.

A loud vibration broke the silence of the room. Reaching over, Carl grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

 

_Did you get sent to Time Out?_

 

Carl smiled and replied, _Fuck you. He was surprisingly cool. Not even going to tell my mom._

 

_Things are taken care of here. Get some sleep kid._

 

Taking a deep breath, Carl wished more than anything that he could be with Negan in that moment. He replied, _Yes, sir._

Carl knew he got off on being in control. He loved handing out orders and watching everyone jump to follow them. Carl also knew he loved when someone fought back. It was a precarious mix, but he knew he had it mastered. It was only a matter of time before Negan would break his little rule about Carl.

And Carl couldn’t wait.

* * *

Whether it was out of guilt or suspicion, Rick didn’t take his eyes off of Carl the rest of the weekend. However, any free moment Carl had he used as an attempt to visit Negan. But his dad countered by making excuses for him to stay behind. Help around the house. Visit the guys at the station. Anything but go off on his own.

To his credit, Rick didn’t mention the _party_ all weekend either. He was probably just happy to think that Carl had friends and was finally doing normal teenage stuff.

But Carl didn’t like this current situation. He kept daydreaming about what would have happened if he’d been allowed to go to Negan’s that night. Much to his annoyance, he tried texting him but didn’t hear anything the rest of the weekend.

When Monday finally arrived, Carl made sure to leave the house early. It wasn’t difficult to get into Negan’s office. The halls were a bit darker than normal but everything was unlocked. Carl sat on the chair and absently twirled from side to side. He wanted to look through Negan’s papers but he knew anything interesting about the man would be kept at his house anyway. And Carl had plenty of free reign there. Instead, he waited patiently in the dark.

When the door creaked open and the light finally flashed on, Carl turned to greet Negan.

“Fuck!” Negan swore.

Cracking a grin, Carl laughed, “Hi.”

Shutting and locking the door quickly behind him, Negan turned to Carl, “What the hell, kid?”

“ _'What the hell’_ to you. You never answered my texts.”

Crossing his arms and furrowing his brow, Negan replied, “I told you it was fine. That’s all you needed to know. Now get the hell out of my office.”

Annoyed, Carl stood, “Jesus, calm down.”

“I’m calmer than goddamn Bob fuckin’ Ross over here. But I thought we had an understanding? And that understanding was that you are _not_ to step one damn toe into this office.”

Scoffing, Carl took a step forward. “But Coach,” he said sarcastically, “I have a question about the big game this week. Am I supposed to kick or dribble the ball?”

Sauntering closer to Carl, Negan grinned, “Shit, kid, the only balls you’re gonna be handling are your own.” He laughed, smiling wide.

Narrowing his eye, Carl replied, “I think I know of a couple other balls I could be handling.”

Negan rolled his eyes, “Are you _done?_ Will you get the hell out of my office now?”

Crossing his arms, growing angry, Carl demanded, “What the fuck is your problem?”

Lowering his voice, Negan said, “You _know_ what my problem is. Now, you’ve pretty explicitly pushed your boundaries with me on more than a _few_ occasions, and I’ve been pretty goddamn charitable until now. You keep pressing your luck and you’re going to find your little _extracurricular_ project one man short. Oh, and don’t even _try_ to sell me some bloodlust craving for justice line.” Leaning closer to Carl’s ear, Negan smirked, “I _know_ you want a show, and hell Carl, I think I’ve been a good sport about giving you just what you want.”

Pounding heart, Carl closed his eyes and felt Negan’s breath soft over the side of his face.

“But kid,” Negan place his hand on Carl’s shoulder, forcing him to meet Negan’s eyes. “I’m a reasonable fucking guy. I have your best interested tucked against my little fuckin’ heart. And the _only_ thing I want from you is for you _not_ to bring _that_ shit _here._ ”

Rolling his eye, Car asked, “Or what, you’ll give me detention?”

Patting Carl’s shoulder, Negan leaned back from him, “Oh, I’ll do a hell of a lot worse than that. I will not lay a single fucking _finger_ on you until months _after_ you graduate if you keep pulling this shit.” He removed his hand and placed them on his hips. “Maybe never again, full stop. You know? I’ve been neglecting Megan lately.”

“Megan?”

“Henderson.”

“ _Mrs. Henderson?_ ”

Smiling and lifting his eyebrows, Negan replied, “ _Ms._ Henderson, and hell fucking yes. If you learn one thing from me kid, it should be never piss off a redhead who teaches art. When they go apeshit on your ass they get creative about it.”

Furrowing his brow, Carl studied Negan’s face.

“Aw, you’re adorable when you’re jealous.”

Shaking his head, Carl replied, “Fuck you, Negan.” Quickly walking to the door, he opened it and left Negan’s office. 

* * *

Listening to Negan threaten to hook up with the art teacher made Carl’s blood run. He felt a possessive need to somehow make it known that Negan was _his._ But he wasn’t stupid. He obviously couldn’t tell anyone and honestly it embarrassed the hell out of him how jealous he was over it. And he knew that Negan, unfortunately, was smart enough to notice it.

So Carl fell back on his routine to ignore Negan. At school, everything seemed to be like it had been _before_. He didn’t look at him during gym class and Negan stayed as far away from him as possible.

A few days passed, and Carl started to feel the annoying itch again. The satisfaction of the last guy they’d killed didn’t last nearly as long as Carl would have liked. He’d had a few things planned that he wanted to convince Negan of trying when they got back to his house, and with how _accommodating_ Negan had been that night in the woods, Carl though he’d had a good chance of seeing it through.

Now though, the sight of Negan just pissed him off.

It’s not that he didn’t understand why they weren’t allowed to be seen together at school. Negan was a cocky, arrogant, foul, loudmouthed, ass but he wasn’t stupid. Any slightest reason to start even the vaguest of rumors could be enough to unravel everything they had.

The more he thought about it the more Carl began to find it difficult to logically be angry at Negan _._ He was being cautious and that was smart.

He was ready to concede that point when he was early to class one day. Nearing the lockers when Carl turned to the closest hallway, he stopped dead to see Negan’s arm raised above Ms. Henderson’s head. His lips gently ghosting over hers in a soft kiss.

His heart froze. Knowing Negan was fucking around with other people and seeing it live were two entirely different things. Carl couldn’t control the lump that formed in the back of his throat. As desperate as he was to swallow it down, it wouldn’t budge.

Carelessly, he dropped his backpack to the floor alerting his teachers of his presence.

Ms. Henderson pushed Negan away firmly and promptly brushed out her long skirt.

He watched as Negan met his eye, and Carl was unsuccessful to hide his seething emotions. He grabbed his bag and turned away. Stomping in the opposite direction, Carl sped through the hallway, stopping long enough at his locker to grab his coat, then proceeded straight out the doors of the high school.

There was no plan formed in his mind, he just needed to walk. Get the hell out of that stifling building. The air was growing increasingly cold, but Carl didn’t feel it as he followed his pounding feet while they lead him downtown. It was a long walk but he needed it.

With each annoyed step, Carl ignored the unwanted creeping thoughts in his mind. Shoving his fists into his jacket, he discovered the butterfly knife he used to play with immediately after his attack. He had since forgotten that he’d ever needed it to feel safe.

As he approached the ancient buildings of downtown, with their vintage graffiti littering the sides of old brick stores, he found a bench and sat. Twirling open his knife, he played with it as he had before. It calmed his nerves to focus on anything other than Negan.

Shifting the blade between his fingers he started to really consider their situation. He knew his feelings towards Negan were incorrigible, but at this point in their self created game, having a crush on his teacher was damn near quaint. What he’d _done_ with him on the other hand was not exactly as innocuous.

Slamming the knife down, he drove the blade into the wooden bench. His hand slipped further than intended, slicing the flesh of his palm against the blade.

“Shit,” he hissed bringing his hand closer to his eye to examine it. Blood was pooling freely and it stung like a bitch, but he didn’t think he’d need stitches. “Goddamn it,” he swore under his breath.

Pulling at the loose clothing of his sleeve he attempted to wrap the cut by holding on tight to the extra material. Rationally, he knew he should use the bandage around his eye but he couldn’t bring himself to remove it in public.

With his uninjured hand he pulled his knife from the bench and returned it to his pocket. Sighing reluctantly, the dull throb of his stinging hand encouraged him to make the decision to walk home.

It was a long walk, one he wasn’t reveling in. Negan was a dick. His hand was throbbing. And he was starting to get a headache.

When he finally arrived home, he cleaned his wound and went to his room. Unenthusiastic about the inevitable confrontation he’d have with Negan, he absently turned on his phone to find text messages.

 

_1:47 PM: Kid get your ass back here. We need to talk._

_1:52 PM I’m not fuckin around._

_3:19 PM Goddamnit Carl your ass better be at my house tonight!_

 

Carl smirked and closed out of the messages. He was surprised Negan cared enough at all to even check in with him. He felt satisfied knowing that at least he was being a pain in Negan’s ass.

His phone vibrated and he flipped it over to see another message from Negan.

 

 _6:36 PM What the hell? You’re gonna pull this teenage shit_ **_now?_ **

 

Frowning and angrily furrowing his brow he replied.

 

_6:37 PM Jesus christ I’ll see you tomorrow_

 

He silenced his phone and turned it over so he couldn’t see the screen. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from Negan in that moment. He knew it was senseless to ask him to keep his dick out of everyone else. But knowing that didn’t ease the tension in his shoulders or the knots in his stomach.


	12. Chapter 12

This time when Carl arrived at Negan’s office before school, he was already waiting for him. Carl could see the light behind the closed door. He rolled his eye and let out an annoyed huff as he knocked.

“It’s open,” Negan called from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, Carl entered the small room carefully closing the door behind him.

Negan was leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. Smugly he stated, “Well look who decided to grace me with their presence!”

“Yeah, so _now_ you want me in your office?” Carl shook his head, “ _What_ do you want?”

“For you to grow the hell up,” Negan replied. He took a step closer to Carl, eyeing him carefully, “You didn’t tell anyone did you?”

“About you and the art teacher?” Carl scoffed, “ _No._ Why would I?”

“Fuck. Not about _her._ About -” he let the question hang in the air.

Realizing he meant Bryce, Carl furrowed his brow. “Fuck you. You’re such an asshole. No, I’d never-” he shook his head. “You can piss me off as much as you want but I’m just as guilty. I wouldn’t narc on you.” Smirking deviously, he added, “But it might be fun to hold this whole situation over your head for a while. You know I could always tell my dad you’ve been _abusing_ me.” He took a step closer, smiling, “Making me perform all kinds of lewd acts when I come to one of your _garage_ days with the rest of the kids.” Narrowing his eye he asked sarcastically, “Have you been _grooming_ me, Negan? Was _that_ your plan all along? Pick out the hideously disfigured kid and get him to worship you?”

Ignoring his tirade, Negan looked down at him with a cocky grin, “ _‘Worship’_ me, huh?”

Scoffing, Carl replied, “Not quite.”

They were close. This has been the first time Carl had been alone with Negan in a while and his body seemed to notice. Pulse racing, Carl could smell Negan’s cologne. He remembered how those soft lips, and rough hands felt over his body.

But he was still pissed.

Leaning in closer, Negan teased, “Think you’d go down on your knees for me? Maybe say a little prayer while you’re there? Need Coach to walk you through it?”

Negan’s rough hushed voice went straight to his cock.

Challenging the gleeful taunting look in Negan’s eyes, Carl replied, “You’re a dick.” Then he called Negan’s bluff and dropped his backpack to the ground as he fell to his knees. His hands were swiftly at Negan’s belt, unfastening it before he could react.

“Fuck, kid,” Negan breathed taken aback.

Carl ran his hand over Negan’s suddenly interested prick. As he reached his fingers to pull down the zipper, a loud knock at the door interrupted him.

“Don’t answer it,” Carl whispered harshly.

Negan pulled away from Carl, ordering, “Get up. You’re not fucking doing that anyway."

He waited until Carl reluctantly stood, rolling his eye as he threw his backpack over his shoulder.

“I thought you were mad at me. What the hell happened to that?” Negan asked, though he didn’t give him time to answer before he pulled the door open.

A student Carl didn’t recognize handed Negan a note and explained that he wouldn’t be in class. Carl waited impatiently until he left.

Negan closed the door behind him and threw the note on his desk. He turned and walked next to Carl. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder Negan said, “That jealousy shit you’re pulling is cute but I don’t play that game. This is _exactly_ what’s holding me back when you ask _what’s_ holding me back. It’s just fuckin’, kid. And I’m mostly doing it for show. I’m not dropping her the second we start this shit just because you’re an _eager_ little beaver ready to drop to your knees for any kind of wood waving your way. I’m doing the same fucking shit I’ve always done. And that’s what you should be doing too.”

Carl shrugged Negan off of his shoulders. “Whatever, Negan. If you need to get laid to overcompensate for feeling like a fucking pedophile, do whatever the hell you want.”

He reached for the door and Negan called, “Come over tonight.”

Carl stopped and looked back curiously at the change of topic, “Why?”

“You have a fucking test to make up,” he replied sarcastically. “Why the hell do you think? You and I have some shit to sort out.”

Shaking his head he replied, “I’ll see if I can schedule you in.” Then he walked out the door.

* * *

Standing outside of Negan’s house, Carl was disappointed in himself for even being there to begin with. He didn’t _want_ to show up. He _wanted_ to make Negan feel as infuriated as _he_ was. But the appeal of being alone in Negan’s house again was too strong. They hadn’t been _really_ alone together how Carl had anticipated since the night with Bryce.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped into his house. Negan was at the stove stirring something in a pot. Carl stood in the entryway impatiently, waiting for Negan to acknowledge him. 

He didn’t.

Rolling his eye he walked over to Negan, “What are you making?” It smelled good and he could feel his stomach growl in hopeful anticipation.

“Spaghetti. Sit your ass down.”

Carl remained standing, glaring daggers at Negan's back. He debated turning around and walking out the door. He knew he wouldn’t but at least pretending made him feel better.

Negan turned around, “Sit. _Down._ ”

Sighing, Carl sat at the table. He watched as Negan filled the plate in front of him, surprised that he was actually offering some to Carl instead of pull a bullshit power move. Negan did the same to his own then sat next to him.

Eyeing Carl intently, Negan said, “We’re not dating, you got that?”

Carl smirked as he looked down at his plate. It looked fantastic and made his mouth water.

Negan continued, “I might get a little swept away in the fuckin’ moment occasionally, but we are _not_ a fuckin’ couple." Pausing thoughtfully, he pointed with his fork, "Well, we’re a _couple_ of fuckin’ assholes. But _that_ is _it_.”

Crossing his arms, Carl said, “Yeah, no shit.”

“You need to keep a lid on whatever the hell came out of you at school. That’s the kind of shit that gets noticed and people start asking questions.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything!” Carl huffed, “I ditched class, _that_ was it.”

“You made a fuckin’ scene, ran away doing who the fuck knows, and then you show back up with your hand in a goddamn bandage. What the hell, Carl? _Who’d_ you track down? You can’t do that shit. _Not alone._ What do you think could have happened to you out there without backup?”

Realizing suddenly, Carl laughed, “ _That’s_ what all this is all about?” He lifted his hand. Unwrapping it, he showed Negan the deep red cut. The skin next to it was swollen and hot but it was healing. “I’m not an idiot. I didn’t go out _looking._ I cut my hand playing with my damn knife.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Negan replied, “Seriously kid?”

Carl shrugged as he stabbed into his plate with a fork and took a bite of the spaghetti, angry with himself for actually enjoying it.

“Okay, well, you’re not as dumb as I thought. Besides the whole stabbing yourself with a knife thing.”

Narrowing his eye, Carl dropped his fork, “You know what? Fuck you, Negan. Did you call me here to _babysit_ me? Were you just worried I’d go out on my own if you didn't keep an eye on me?”

“Calm down,” Negan leaned back in his chair. “I was going through some of the profiles you left and I recognized a name.” Negan tossed a few pieces of paper toward Carl. “This dipshit used to work in one of the districts as a high school coach but he resigned after some _rumors_ surfaced. The family settled out of court. I feel like a fuckin’ idiot because I didn’t think of him earlier. Back when I knew him, it was all just rumors. There was no hard proof, you gotta give him the benefit of the doubt, right? Every teacher, especially the ones with a dick, know that one false accusation ruins your career. But, what’s interesting-” Negan pointed at the sheets of paper Carl was flipping through, “Is that he’s currently working as a _private_ trainer.”

“Okay,” Carl shrugged, “ _Why_ is that interesting?”

“He resigned because a few of his students felt _uncomfortable_ around him. The rumor was that he was _too_ _close_ to some of the boys. They said if you _played nice_ you’d get a better spot on the team. Better spot on the team means more exposure to scouts.”

Narrowing his eye, Carl threw the papers back on the table and crossed his arms in frustration, “Goddamn it, Negan. Does this one hit a little close to home? Are you trying to make a statement here? I don’t need this bullshit.”

“Fuck no,” Negan laughed. “This _asshole_ was doing this for _years_. None of the boys wanted to press charges because they knew he still had connections higher up. They saw proof of what happened if he chose them to be the main attraction. Popularity. Scholarships. Their future was set.”

Shaking his head, Carl replied, “Look, I mean, it’s pretty shitty but it sounds like they didn’t _have_ to do it. It’s not like the others.”

“Yeah, except you’re missing the fucking point where he showed up on the goddamn list _you_ brought me.”

Rolling his eye, Carl picked up the paper and looked at it again. “Fine. What did he do?”

“He tracked down one of the old boys. Assaulted him. Guy pressed charges that time.”

Carl shook his head, “How old was he?”

“I don’t know. Not the fucking point. The fuckin’ point _is,”_ Negan smiled wide, “ _Now_ he’s not just working exclusively with teenagers. He’s training them as young as _ten years old_. Only boys. And I’d bet your other goddamn eyeball that he’s _still_ doing _more_ than just training.”

Shrugging, he asked, “Okay, but how are we going to prove it?”

“Do we fuckin’ need to? We have proof of the other assault and we know what he was doing at the school.”

“You have _rumors_ about the school and, what? A fist fight in a parking lot?” Carl scratched his forehead thinking then replied, “I dunno. This just seems different somehow. _If_ he is doing it, yeah he’s probably grooming them but, I can’t help but be on what the student’s side _might_ have been in this.”

Negan shook his head and laughed, “You think _this,_ ” he pointed between them, “is the same thing as what that asshole is doing?”

“I think that there could be a possibility that _some_ of those guys may have actually wanted it.” Carl huffed, “I know how the hell it would look if _our_ situation came out. No amount of me saying _‘I was begging for it’_ is going to convince people you didn’t brainwash me.”

“Beggin’ for it, huh?” Negan smiled wide.

“You want me to?” He called his bluff. “I’ll come over right now and beg to sit on your dick,” Carl retorted smugly as he watched Negan’s jovial expression turn to annoyance. “So yeah, before we go ahead with this guy you’re gonna need to find me some proof.”

Negan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms impressed, “Look at you being all practical and shit. I didn’t know you had such a rational mind. I love it. You’ve got that young face, that old soul. Your fuckin’ badass wound and years more wisdom than you should have to back it up. Don’t know how the son of a cop got to be so damn smart.”

Shaking his head as he smiled reluctantly, “Fuck you,” Carl said softly. Negan always seemed to be able to pull one from him.

Negan continued to talk about the man he wanted to target. Carl felt uneasy that it would be someone they were connected to, no matter how slight, but Negan seemed enthusiastic about it. He had to admit, it was exhilarating. It was the first time since they had started this that Negan really showed just how much he wanted it. _More_ than Carl even. It was easy for Carl to get swept up by his excitement.

After they finished eating, Carl stood to leave.

“Where are you going so fast?” Negan asked.

“School night. Remember? The place where you get paid to bully kids.”

“Smart ass,” Negan smirked. “Crash your ass in the living room. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Smugly, Carl replied, “It’s a date”

“Yeah, fuck you, kid,” Negan smirked as stood. Walking over, he put the plates in the sink.

“ _That’s_ pretty much what I’ve been trying to convince you to do, yeah.”

Turning around from the sink, Negan leaned back against the counter and studied Carl with an amused look on his face, “Yeah? What exactly do you have in mind? I seem to remember some talk of begging earlier.”

“Is _that_ what you want?” Carl crossed his arms at the challenge. “Do you want me on my knees?” He smirked walking closer.

Negan returned a smile, seemingly ready for anything Carl had for him. “Fuck, I can think of a lot of places I want you. On your knees is just one of them.”  

“The second I drop to my knees you’re just gonna pull the same bullshit complaining about my age. I don’t really have a big incentive here.”

Smiling brazenly, Negan stood straight, “You most _certainly_ have a _big_ incentive, Carl. Don’t sell yourself short.” He walked past him, leaving Carl in the kitchen alone.

Ignoring his blush, Carl took a moment to slow his breathing and adjust his jeans. Narrowing his eye, he followed after Negan, determined not to let him get away with keeping him on edge.

Negan was sitting on the couch in front of the TV, flipping through channels absently.

“Is this _really_ why you want me here?” Carl asked, "To watch shitty nighttime TV?"

Negan shrugged and made room for him to sit down.

Sighing, Carl turned toward Negan. Instead of sitting in the space made for him, Carl stood right in front of Negan, blocking his view of the TV. Breathing deep, Carl moved forward and climbed onto Negan’s lap, straddling his thighs.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Negan asked amused, without serious conviction, as his hands roamed eagerly to Carl’s hips.

“You know, I’m really sick of the way you treat me. I’ve seen you crack skulls. _More_ than one. I’ve watched you burn away the evidence. Hell, I’ve helped you get rid of a body. But when I tell you how much I want to wrap my mouth around your dick or feel you stretch me open until it burns, you get deflective on me.” Carl knelt up slightly before sitting back down, adjusting his ass over Negan’s lap.

Negan shifted his hips and smiled, “Maybe I’m just _not_ that into you?”

“All the jizz you’ve shot off in my direction seems to tell a different story,” Carl scoffed. “So, we’re gonna sort this out.” Carl rubbed his hand over his own too tight jeans. Without breaking eye contact from Negan, Carl unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He moved his hand to squeeze the head of his swollen cock with his uninjured hand. “You don’t want to fuck me? _Fine._ But I’m not going to let you be a jackass about it all the time. You’re a goddamn _tease_ , Negan. And I’m _sick_ of you getting off on it.”

“I told you,” Negan leaned back into the couch crossing his arms behind his head, “The only time I’m getting off with you is when we’re fucking up someone’s shit.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve noticed you’re _not_ very good at sticking to your boundaries.”

“No,” Negan smiled, “I’m really fucking not.”

Furrowing his brow in frustration, Carl bent forward to meet Negan’s lips. Rough and hard, Carl kissed him, waiting to be thrown off.

But he wasn’t.

Negan opened his mouth impatiently and allowed Carl to taste him. Breathing fast and fiercely, shaking from the rush of adrenaline, Carl pushed against Negan, scratched at his chest, desperate to be just a little bit closer to him.

Then Carl was suddenly off balance, grasping tightly at Negan's shoulders so as not to fall as Negan stood. His arms wrapped around Carl, holding him in place as he carried him to his bedroom.

Breathing quickly, Carl said, “I can walk you know.”

Negan kicked the door open and walked to the bed.

“No fuckin’ shit,” he breathed. Standing at the end, he dropped Carl and removed his own shirt.

Carl laid back, slightly shocked, as Negan moved toward him and started kissing him again. He felt Negan’s strong hands fumble under his shirt, grabbing his side tight and letting go to carelessly massage more of his skin. The rough burn gave him goosebumps. A few hours ago the thought of even being _around_ Negan was irritating as hell, and now here he was, underneath him, writhing on his bed.

But Negan lifted his head, “I don’t know how many fucking times I’ve told you, but this isn’t going to happen.” Breathing hard, he added, “At least _not_ right _now._ ” He pulled away and rolled onto his back next to Carl.

“You _carried_ me into your goddamn bedroom, threw me on your bed, and took off your fucking shirt to tell me _that?_ ”

Negan shrugged, laughing quietly he said, “You give me the worst fucking case of blue balls. I get a little cloudy and forget what I’m doing from time to time.”

Carl’s hand trailed down his side to his back pocket. Gripping the knife he’d tucked there, he pulled it out and rolled over. Jumping quickly to pin Negan, Carl held the blade to his throat. “You realize there’s a solution to your problem right here? Sitting on top of your dick _right_ now.”

“Oh fuck,” Negan closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Arching his back, he laughed as the blade pushed firmly against his throat. He thrust his hips slowly.

Carl pushed back against him, feeling his hard cock behind his jeans against his ass.

“I’m not going to _fuck_ you,” Negan rolled his hips still holding his eyes closed. “And I haven’t done the dry humping bullshit since I was 14.” Biting his lip, he sighed against the pressure of his dick. Finally opening his eyes, he said, “Carl, I _know_ you’ve got a damn near constant hardon, being a teenager will do that to you. Looking at linoleum is probably enough to get you firing off in your pants. I’ve been there, I understand. But this isn’t my first time at the rodeo. Shoving tongues down each other’s throats is fun and all, but I _need_ the main course here. And I’m not gonna walk you through that while, one, you are a fucking seventeen year old. And two, you’re a goddamn student.”

“You’re a fuckin’ dick,” Carl held the blade tighter.

“You’re a fuckin’ psycho,” Negan laughed.

Carl glared down at him, furious from the constant mixed signals. Negan was encouraging him one minute and denying him the next, cruelly toying with Carl.

“Okay, look, I let this one get a little out of hand. I admit it. I fucked up. But you scare the hell out of me kid. When I see you go carnal and you whip that little knife out? I fuckin’ love it. So, fuck it. You want me to get you off? What do you want? I’m willing to accommodate the demand of your dick long as you know a few fucking things. Not just _know_ but don’t fuckin’ push me on them either. I’m sick of explaining every little goddamn thing here.”

“You’re a fucking teacher, _Negan._ _Explaining_ is your job.”

“Not right the fuck now, it isn’t. And, if you’d _like_ my job to be getting _you off_ instead, then why don’t you pull that strong silent act you’re so good at.”

Carl narrowed his eye but bit his tongue.

“I will suck face, jerk you off, you can fuck my throat. Use me as your goddamn blow up doll, I don’t give a fuck. But you _do not_ go anywhere _near_ my prick, and when I say stop I mean it. You goddamn better stop.”

Smiling deviously, Carl said, “‘No”, means ‘no’. Got it, coach.”

“Shut the hell up,” Negan narrowed his eyes.   

Carl eased up on the blade and looked down at him contemplating his next move.

“You cool with that?” Negan asked.

“Think I can handle it.”

Negan sat up to meet Carl’s lips, but before he realized what had happened, Negan had flipped him over, taken his knife, and reversed their positions.

Carl felt the cool blade against his neck as he breathed rapidly.

“This what you want?” Negan leaned closer to him. Warm puffs of air ghosting over his face. He quickly grabbed Carl’s wrists and held them over his head. Grabbing them with one hand, Negan returned the blade to Carl’s throat with his free one. “You just want someone to come along and put you in your goddamn place. You’re sick of everyone treating you like you might break. You’re not going to fuckin’ break. You’re Carl Fuckin’ Grimes and you’re not going to give anyone the _satisfaction_ of fuckin’ breaking.”

He moaned as Negan adjusted his weight over him. Brief flashes crossed his mind reminding him of that night that changed everything between them. Feeling helpless with Negan wasn’t the same. Closing his eye, Carl paid attention to the way Negan’s rough grip burned around his wrists. The heady feeling of Negan holding him down was enough to make him dizzy. He was so close to getting what he wanted, and Negan was finally giving in, even if only slightly. In the moment it was more than enough.

Arching his back, pushing further into Negan, Carl opened his eye to see him grinning down at him.

“You would do any little goddamn thing I told you if it meant you were gonna get off, wouldn't you?”

Carl scoffed, “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“Take off your shirt,” Negan ordered.

Narrowing his eye, Carl tried to figure out what kind of game he was playing. He didn’t know if it would be better to do as he was told or put up a fight. Though, it didn’t take much to realize the best way to get what he wanted was to challenge Negan.

“Take off your fuckin’ shirt or I’ll cut it off of you,” Negan added.

A small satisfied smile broke through at the corners of Carl’s lips. “No,” his voice scratched obstinately.

Negan chuckled and moved his hand from Carl’s wrists to pull at the collar of his shirt, “Care to try again?”

Writhing beneath him, Carl replied, “Fuck no.”

Raising an eyebrow, Negan bit his bottom lip. He placed the knife against the collar of his shirt and said, “You want to be my bitch so bad? Then do what you’re fuckin’ told.”

Carl’s stomach fluttered at the command. He felt the tip of the sharp blade poke briefly into his collarbone before Negan cut through his shirt and tore the rest down.  

Negan dropped the blade on the bed.

Carl’s heart pounded, waiting for Negan to do something. Anything. Just as long as he was touching him.

Putting one hand next to Carl’s head, Negan braced himself over Carl. With a delicate hand, Negan’s finger tips traced lightly at the top of Carl’s jeans.

Breathing heavy, Carl _was_ close to begging. He couldn’t take being teased any longer as he held his eye closed tight. His cock throbbed too hard behind his pants. But Negan finally gave in. The hand on his abdomen slid up along his ribs, giving him goosebumps. Making him shiver. Carl bit his lip as he concentrated on the tips of Negan’s fingers exploring his body.

The other times they’d been rushed. Carl never had a chance to appreciate the way Negan played his body like he knew the perfect notes to press. His talented fingers rubbed teasingly over Carl’s nipple making him inhale from the sensitive touch. Negan pinched teasingly and electricity shot straight to his dick making Carl moan.

Negan laughed quietly.

Just as Carl was about to open his eye, he felt the familiar scratch of Negan’s stubble along his cheek as his lips pressed against his.

Being there, in Negan’s room, writhing on his bed, moaning, and pleading, and intoxicated by every sensation Negan was inflicting on him, Carl wondered how he got there. How the hell did some disfigured kid win the affection of this stupid, asshole of a human being? Someone like Negan who lived on completely on his own terms. Not caring about what anyone thought of him. And somehow Carl found befriending this man had changed the course of his life forever.

Negan moved his lips from Carl’s and trailed them to his jaw, teeth scratching and the stubble of his beard burning along the path. Carl sighed as Negan bit firmly into his neck then eased and licked tenderly around his skin. It was enough pain to make him gasp and cry out. His cock throbbed, begging for release, but he never wanted Negan to quit sucking tenderly against his skin.

But his hot tongue trailed down leaving cool air behind each kiss as he left his neck. He licked teasingly over Carl’s nipple and his teeth bit playfully at him. As a hand roamed across his chest, Carl arched into the touch.

In all the ways he’d spent discovering himself he’d never allowed time to revel in each sensation like Negan was doing to him. The building tension from neglect made him moan. Finally, a hand slipped down to cup his jeans.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” Negan demanded.

Shivering at the demand, Carl took a moment to breathe before finally doing as he was told. His arms slipped out of his ruined shirt and he quickly reached his jeans to push them down and scramble out.

Negan stood, no longer wearing pants of his own but keeping his boxer briefs much to Carl’s disappointment. He moved to the end of the bed between Carl’s legs dangling off. His fingers ran up Carl’s thighs, squeezing tight before he grabbed the fabric of Carl’s boxers and pull them down.

As Carl kicked them off, Negan once again leaned over him. Smiling wide, with a dark glint in his eye. Carl wondered if it was just for him.

“Take off that fuckin’ thing,” Negan ordered, pointing to his wounded eye.

In that moment Carl would have done anything for him. He removed it, dropping the bandage on the bed and brought his hand further down, stroking himself lightly for Negan.

Laughing darkly, Negan stared at the wound, “You’re going to condition me to get so fucking hard every time I see that.” He took a moment to study it further before finally asking, “You want my hand?” Negan smiled, “Or you want my mouth?”

“I _want_ you to shut the hell up,” Carl complained.

Smiling, Negan pushed Carl further up the bed. Just as he was adjusting himself, Carl felt the warm wet touch of Negan’s mouth wrap around him.

“Fuck,” he breathed quietly.

He could feel Negan laugh but Carl was quickly distracted by the the tight grasp on his hips. He arched himself deeper into Negan, panting as sweat beaded at his brow. Every stroke and twist demanded full attention on Negan who was soothing any other thought from his mind with each lap of his tongue. He had been on edge too fucking long. Teased by Negan, while his mind anticipated all that they could accomplish together.

He envisioned the dark red-black speckles of blood scattered over Negan’s face as he pulled his bat through the air striking a faceless victim. The way his hands twisted around the wood, craving to strike again and again.

Carl opened his eye to find those same hands wrapped around him, stroking and working his hard cock. Pulling each measured sensation from him and sucking ardently at his purpling tip. He could feel the build deep in his spine, craving release.

As he arched his back and pushed himself further into Negan’s mouth, his legs began to tremble.

“Negan,” he gasped reaching a hand down between his legs to run his fingers through his hair.

He felt Negan’s hands move then suddenly felt a tentative brush of a finger over his hole. Carl’s stomach fluttered wildly as Negan ran a finger softly again. Desperate, Carl wanted more. He wanted Negan to push in, to feel him inside. He wanted everything he could take from him and whatever Negan would give. It would never be enough.

Carl’s hands fell to his sides. As he grasped frantically at the sheets, he felt the hot wave of his orgasm wash over him, spilling over Negan’s tongue.

Panting and trembling, his stomach rose and fell with each shaky breath. He shook as Negan licked gently around his sensitive cock, twitching beneath his lips.

When Negan lifted his head, Carl sat up, suddenly reaching for his neck. Obliging him, Negan crawled closer and Carl wrapped his fingers tight in his hair, breathing unevenly into his mouth as their lips collided. He could taste himself mixed with the familiar taste of Negan’s tongue.

His hands roamed over the hard planes of Negan’s chest, scratching at the skin, memorizing the body in front of him with his fingers. The palm of his hand worked low on Negan’s stomach, brushing the band on his underwear. Carl didn’t push any further but he was relieved when he felt Negan pull them down for him.

Negan leaned back from Carl to remove them completely then knelt at the end of the bed. Carl’s heart raced hard, pounding and thumping beneath his chest. His stomach jumped at the sight of Negan in front of him, toned arms and hard red dick jutting out, glistening at the tip. His mouth watered and he couldn’t remove his eye from him.

With one hand, Negan reached out and thumbed over Carl’s bottom lip and with the other he grasped his cock firmly. He hooked his thumb into Carl’s slack mouth where Carl’s tongue licked and prodded at it.

Negan moaned, stroking himself, paying close attention to the way Carl brought his thumb into his mouth and teased him by sucking on the tip.

Carl sat up, getting closer to Negan. Negan’s thumb dropped from his mouth as Carl’s hand reached cautiously along his arm. He felt the arduous move of each flick of Negan’s wrist. Tracing his fingers over Negan’s hand, he helped guide the tempo.

After a few careless strokes, Negan stopped breathless, “Don’t do that.”

Grabbing Negan’s hand, pulling it free from his dick, he opened Negan’s palm and guided it below his mouth. Gathering as much as he could, Carl spit into Negan’s hand and returned it to his cock.

“Fuck,” Negan sighed as he pushed Carl to lay down and crawled over him, straddling his thighs as Carl lay back. “That’s so fuckin’ gross,” his moaned.

Watching intently, as Negan stroked himself hard over Carl’s chest, he arched into the body above him. Too far away but more than he ever could have expected. He listened to the rhythm of Negan, pulling and panting and gasping out for him. It was enough to make his cock twitch with interest. He watched closely as Negan held his eyes closed tight. The way he bit hard onto his bottom lip, then let his mouth fall open, breath hitching and gasping through each stroke.

“I want you to fuck me so hard, Negan.” The words left Carl’s mouth before he had time to think, “I know the way you’ll pound into my ass will have me feeling it for days and it’s going to feel so fucking good. You can watch me walk through the halls as school and know how much it hurts for me to move and that you're the reason for it.”

Negan looked down at him, eyes shadowed, glazed over with desire.

“Or you can put your dick in my mouth. Fuck me until you come,” Carl arched closer to him. “No one has ever fucked my mouth before. Do you want to show me how to do it right?”

“Fuck,” Negan cried as he bent over Carl.

Slick warm strips of come painted Carl’s chest, making him breathe heavily and uneven.

Negan’s arm shook as he braced himself, his free hand slowly stroking, milking for the last drop. Falling to Carl’s side, Negan ran his fingers through his hair while he laughed quietly. “That’s some fucked up shit,” he breathed.

“Finally realize that wanting to face fuck jailbait makes you come harder than you have in years?”

“You’re a little shit,” Negan laughed as he rolled to his back. “Jesus Christ,” he sighed.

Carl lay back on the bed, mirroring Negan, still focusing on getting his brain and his body to work together. He turned his head to see Negan studying his face. His wound. Instinctually, Carl lifted his hand to cover it with his hair but Negan’s arm reached out and grabbed him around the wrist.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

Swallowing the lump at the back of his throat, Carl watched as Negan’s hand hovered over his face. He knew Negan had seen it before but he’d never be comfortable knowing it was visible to anyone.

“Can I touch it?” He asked.

Carl was about to say no, to stop any more of Negan’s teasing. But he wasn’t joking.

“I want to touch it,” he said again.

Without responding, Carl closed his eye. He tilted his head toward Negan, offering it to him. He shivered as he felt the tips of his fingers brush over his forehead, moving his hair aside.

“You can see the whole socket.”

Choking back the lump in his throat, Carl said, “It’s gross.”

“I've told you before, it’s _badass_. No one is going to mess with you.”

Carl felt the bed shift. He opened his eye to see Negan propped up next to him, head resting on his hand as the free one continued again to trace over the toughened scarred skin above his cheek. He leaned in slowly and lightly brushed his lips over it.

“It turns me on so fuckin’ much,” he added quietly. Sincerely.

The genuine admission hit Carl hard in the chest. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but he couldn’t calm his racing heart. Carl barely moved as Negan finally sat up and wiped the cooling come off his chest with his ruined shirt. He closed his eyes as he listened to Negan walk toward the bathroom.

When Negan returned he crawled back on the bed next to him where Carl hadn’t moved. His body was beyond relaxed. Boneless and perfectly sated. He could smell Negan all around him and it felt like home.

“Shit,” Carl sighed suddenly.

Reluctantly, he tried to pull himself up to sit. He was able to grab his phone from his jeans pocket quickly before Negan’s arm snaked around his waist. He pulled him back, molding Carl’s back against his chest.

“Stop,” Negan spoke confidently.

“You don’t have your hand around my dick, you can’t tell me what to do anymore,” he joked. Shaking as he exhaled, Carl fought the urge to pull away. Negan was effectively cuddling him but calling him out on it would only make him stop. And loath to admit it, Carl didn’t want that.

“I need to go home,” Carl whispered. “School night.”

“What if I just keep you chained to my bed, instead?”

Carl could hear the smile in Negan’s voice. “I don’t think you’d hear me complain.”

With a gravelly voice, Negan replied, “I think you’re turning me into some kind of _delinquent._ ” His fingers roamed over Carl’s hips, digging in against the bone. As his hand ran over Carl’s stomach, he nuzzled against the back of his neck and said, “God _damn._ The things I’m gonna do to you. Not to throw myself in with those pedo fucks but, shit. The moans I could pull from you has my dick leakin’ again _already_. I’m going to keep you open and pound into you for days. And when I’m finally done with your ass, that’s when we have our other little business to attend to. That psychotic brain of yours, it cuts through the bullshit and you see people for what they are. The way your eye narrows in on one of your targets. Just like watching you get hard right in front of me.”

Shivering, Carl didn’t know what to make of Negan’s speech. Taking a deep breath he finally asked, “Why won’t you fuck me?”

“You know goddamn well why-”

“No, my _age_ \- you’re my _teacher_. I _get_ it. But why is _that_ your line? Look at everything else we do together-”

“Kid,” Negan sighed and rolled to his back. “The only person I have to answer to is me, you get me? What we do _out there?_ I don’t give a _fuck_ about the law or whatever the other excuses could be. Because I _know_ we’re doing the _right_ thing. Society might not agree with the method, but I’m sure as hell not losing sleep over it.” Shaking his head, Negan continued, “I’m not going to live with myself if I know _I’m_ one of those shit heads that can’t keep it in his pants because of a little jailbait ass swinging my way. You’re not the first piece of ass I’ve had the opportunity to pummel, just the closest I’ve come to giving it up. Honestly though? It’s all just a fuckin’ joke anyway. I’m not going to let my _dick_ decide it’s okay to cross that line. I will not live with myself knowing I’m _that_ fuckin’ weak. I let my prick rule me before and never once did I feel an ounce of regret. Not _until-_ ” Negan shook his head. “I’m just not letting it get that way again. I swore to myself and that’s not the kind of thing you break blindly.”

Carl knew Negan’s wife was a sore spot. Hearing him speak about it this way, he finally understood why Negan was so adamant about waiting. Negan was trying to prove to himself that he didn’t have to give in to temptation.

“That and robbin’ the cradle shouldn’t get me as hard as it does. You fucked me up, kid,” he smirked.

“Feeling is mutual,” Carl teased. Bringing his hands up, Carl rubbed his face suddenly remembering he didn’t have the bandage on.

“Here,” Negan held it out for him.

Taking it, Carl sat up. With his free hand he ran his fingers through his hair. Inhaling deep, he placed it over his wound, tying it like he had a thousand times before. Carl pulled out his phone to look at the clock. It was later than normal. There was a text from his mom which he responded to quickly.

His stomach jumped as he opened the camera. Turning it to the front lens, Carl quickly snapped a picture. He wasn’t in it completely, sitting on the side of the bed, visible from the lips down. But laying in the background he could see Negan’s torso and those now familiar tattoos of his arms up to his shoulders where the rest of him was out of frame. He smiled to himself as he quickly closed out and turned the screen of his phone off.

Turning back to Negan he said, “I gotta get home.”

Carl turned away. Both seemed to be waiting for the other to come up with an excuse. Any reason for him not to leave.

Neither said anything.

Sighing, Carl finally asked, “This weekend, can you get proof about that guy?”

The bed shifted as Negan sat and wrapped his arms around Carl’s stomach, “It’s not like we have a date set for our fuckin’ book club. But I think I can figure something out.”

Reluctant to leave Negan’s arms, Carl pulled away. Finding his underwear and jeans on the floor, he quickly dressed. By the time he turned around he saw Negan standing on the other side of the bed holding out one of his shirts.

“You starting a collection of my shit yet?” He smirked.

Walking over to him, Carl pulled the black T-shirt out of his hand and quickly put it on. “ _You’re_ the one that keeps destroying my clothes,” he answered.

Biting his lip, Negan took a step closer, hips swaying as he stopped in front of Carl, “Maybe next time I’ll tie you up. Won’t be able to get away so easily.”

He could feel the heat warming his skin from embarrassment at the sincerity of the suggestion.

Chuckling, Negan walked away saying, “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Shaking his head, Carl followed behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably as fluffy as Negan will get! I don't know how it happened. Normally, I'm about the angst! Still working away at the next chapters. They're getting longer so it's taking more time but I'm ahead of schedule. I hope everyone is still enjoying it. Lot's more to come! ;)
> 
> EDIT:  
> I'm working on doodling the "photo." I'll post it on my tumblr if anyone is interested! I have another Coral one up also.
> 
> http://candle-jill.tumblr.com/tagged/my-fanart


	13. Chapter 13

Cringing as the door to his house groaned loudly behind him, Carl turned towards the kitchen, waiting for his eye to adjust to the darkness.

“Hey, Carl.”

He jumped and turned to see Rick leaning against the counter.

“Jesus! You scared the crap out of me.”

Rick scratched his head, “Well, I wouldn’t have if you weren’t creeping in so late.”

“Sorry about that,” Carl walked towards his dad. “I guess I forgot to text.”

Rick nodded, “Look, your mom is-” shaking his head, he continued, “We’re _both_ a little worried about you.”

“What? _Why?_ ”

“You’re never home anymore and when you do come back you sneak in late. Then, there was the party-”

“Did you tell Mom about that?”

“No,” Rick shook his head. Taking a step closer to Carl.

Carl slouched down, wanting to retreat to his room. With Rick’s eyes studying him he felt like he could see every act of indecency he’d been apart of. Like Rick knew exactly what he had been doing with Negan.

“Dad-”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna make this easy on you. What is going on with you? Are you hanging out with new friends? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Carl laughed awkwardly, “ _Why_ would you think that?”

Rick shot him an unimpressed look. “Carl, give me a little credit here. Don’t make me point out all the marks on your neck.”

“Dad!” Carl turned away. His stomach flipped, feeling that Rick would eventually figure out not only his relationship with Negan but everything else behind that door.

Chuckling, he said, “Look, I’m not gonna give you a hard time about it. It’s just-” he shook his head, “Do we need to _talk_ about it?”

Understanding the implication Carl closed his eye tight. Rubbing a hand over his face he answered, “ _No,_ Dad. Jesus.”

Crossing his arms and leaning back into the counter, Rick continued, “To be honest, your mom was hoping you’d met someone. She worries about you. We _want_ you to be out there, make new friends. You can invite them over you know. We will try our hardest not to embarrass you.” He teased.

“ _Ugh,_ ” Carl groaned. He imagined the look on his dad’s face if Negan ever showed up at his door. Shaking his head, Carl decided to go with it, “We’re not like-” he sighed, “ _Not_ a girlfriend, okay? It’s complicated.”

Nodding, Rick said, “Friends then? _Good_ friends?”

Carl shrugged, willing his blush to go the hell away.

“Look, if she’s doing that to your neck, she must like you, alright?”

“Dad! Just- _stop!_ ”

“Alright, alright,” he held his hands up smiling. “You’re almost eighteen but that doesn’t mean you’re there yet. We would _appreciate_ if you could pretend you’re still a kid just a little longer. It would mean the world to your mom. We really should have the college talk at some point here too. I know since your accident-”

“Okay!” Carl interrupted. Frustrated and tired he shook his head, “Dad, I’m fine, okay? I’ve been making new friends. I’m _not_ going to get anyone pregnant. I’m just trying to-” he paused, trying to search for the words, any words, that could possibly explain just what the hell his life had turned into. “Just enjoy this last year, okay?” Sighing, he continued, “I’m tired, so could we maybe plan my entire future on a different night, please?”

“Yeah, alright.”

As Carl walked away from his dad, trying not to appear too flustered, he took a deep breath.

“Oh, and Carl?”

He stopped and turned around, “Yeah?”

“Do _not_ take advantage of the freedom we’re giving you here. You’ve been getting some passes lately but I can _still_ ground you.”

Rolling his eye, Carl said, “Yeah, Dad.” He continued to walk away.

“If grounding doesn’t work I can always put one of the guys on you. Having a patrol vehicle following you around might keep you out of trouble,” Rick called after him.

“And kill the very little social life I have.” Carl hoped it was only an empty threat, but with his dad he could never be sure. Closing the door snug behind him, Carl crashed on his bed. Being accosted by his dad wasn’t the most enjoyable way to end the night but as he smiled to himself he knew that even _that_ couldn’t ruin it.

* * *

Before school the next day Carl paid special attention to wear a hoodie large enough to cover his neck. If his dad had noticed the marks there was more than a good chance some of the other students might too. And they weren’t as forgiving as Rick. Carl wasn’t in any mood to deal with unnecessary drama or teasing. Telling his classmates to fuck off might be a cathartic experience but wouldn't help him keep a low profile. Because of that, he refused to change into his gym uniform.

Unlike the normal response of being called out in front of all his classmates, Negan walked over to him and placed his hands on his hips, “What the fuck is this?”

Sighing, Carl shifted to the side and pulled at the collar of his hoodie to allow Negan to see the damage. “It’s _your_ fault. I’m not gonna make myself a target for something _you_ did.”

Chuckling, Negan nodded, “You fuckin’ love it and don’t you deny it.”

It was true and they both knew it. Waking up in the morning to see the contrast of purpling bruises against the tender skin of his neck, reminding him of how they got there, it was hard to hate.

Negan wrapped his arm around Carl’s shoulder and began walking him towards his office. He leaned in close and spoke with a hushed tone, “We need to talk about the next _game._ I have a meeting set up. We’ll talk details later, for now wait in my office. It’s not gonna come up but if it does your fuckin’ eyehole is giving you a hell of a migraine.”

“You talked to him?” Carl stopped and turned to Negan. He was close, too close for public but if Negan wasn’t going to stand down, Carl sure as hell wasn’t.

Sensing Carl’s thought, Negan glanced around then pulled away, removing his arm from Carl’s shoulder. “Later,” he repeated. “Maybe I’ll help with that migraine too?” He winked and turned away. Walking back to where the students were gathered for class.

Carl followed his instructions and waited for Negan in his office. As much as he was told to stay the hell out, Carl found himself there quite frequently. The stock images on the wall and papers strewn around the room with Negan’s writing on them were becoming too familiar. Not that he really minded.

Pulling out his phone, Carl opened to the picture he took of them the night before. Neither were entirely recognizable, save for the identifying tattoos. It was enough for Carl to remember the night and hopefully keep Negan somewhat anonymous should anyone glance at it.

He fumbled around on his phone for some time before class was finished and Negan finally entered the room.

“You coming over tonight?”

“I probably shouldn’t. I have some damage control to manage with my parents.”

“Anything I need to worry about?”

Carl smirked and pointed to his neck, “They want to know all about my _new girlfriend_.”

Negan leaned back and lifted his eyebrows smiling, “Oh, so is _that’s_ what brought about the sudden prudish performance?”

“I’m just trying to keep a _low_ profile. _Someone_ told me that might be the best course of action.”

Tilting his head to the side in agreement, Negan changed the subject, “Tomorrow night.”

Understanding immediately what he was referring to, Carl asked incredulously, _“What?”_ Furrowing his brow, he continued, “That’s too soon! I still want _proof_ , Negan. We’re not going-”

“ _I_ am catching up with an old buddy _tomorrow night_ ,” Negan interrupted pointedly. “We’re going to grab some beers and talk about _future investments_.”

“Okay, so, we’re just going to walk in there and ask if he,” Carl paused, “ _You_ know?”

“I laid the groundwork over the phone. He knows I’m interested in his _business_. I’m just getting you the confirmation you desperately want, princess.”

“I don’t think confirming this guy is a bona fide raping asshole before we-” Carl shook his head, “Before anything _happens_ to him, is being particularly _fussy_.”

“Are you finished?”

“Fine!” Carl huffed. Glaring at him he reluctantly asked, “So, what’s the plan?”  

* * *

“Thanks for meeting me, Paul,” Negan slapped him on the back as he sat down at a booth across from an overweight, middle aged man. 

“You think you have something for me?”

“Straight to business then? No fuckin’ small talk. I like that. That’s efficient,” Negan leaned back.

“Oh, you want small talk? How’s the teacher life treating you? I do not miss that one bit. Though, from the sounds of it, you’re not doing too shabby.”

“Yeah, I have my hands full, that’s for goddamn sure,” Negan replied, pouring from a pitcher and throwing back a drink.

“I’m glad you looked me up. We always like accepting new kids into the _program_ ,” Paul swung back his own glass of beer.

Eyeing him closely, Negan said, “You know, I wasn’t really sure I could _trust_ you. I heard the rumors and all. But, who the hell knows if you can believe that shit?” His fist gripped tight around his glass, “I never knew _what_ the hell to believe for sure. We all heard the _scandal_ but that _disappeared_ without a goddamn trace. There has to be some deep pockets around you. And I guess you’re still training, so, you still have those connections at the State U?”

“Does it _really_ matter?” Paul laughed darkly. "I have the money."

Eyeing him carefully, Negan added, “This boy of mine is _actually_ special, okay? I don’t know how this goddamn cesspool of an operation works but I have a soft spot for this one. I told him I could call in some favors.”

"And get some cash on the side?" Paul smirked, “Hell, they’re _all_ special, Negan. And we treat them like royalty. And as for you, the finders fee isn’t too shabby either.” Narrowing his eyes, Paul looked away, “I can get him a few introductions like everyone else. It’s up to the kid from there. How old is he?”

“Fourteen,” Negan lied, taking a drink.

“Not as young as they like.”

“Is that _really_ a problem?”

“I’m sure we can figure something out. Think I can _meet up_ with him?”

Negan gripped his glass tight, “Might be able to arrange something.”

Paul shrugged, “Nothing _personal_ here, Negan. You know I just gotta find out what we’re working with. Maybe figure out who’d give him the best shot. You know, they don’t have time to put in the _effort_  to break them in themselves _._ Normally I have them ready, I know what they’re looking for. But so long as the kid-”

“He’ll be fine,” Negan interrupted. “He won’t say a goddamn word. He’s _well behaved._ ”

“Still would like to take him for a test drive myself,” Paul laughed into his beer. “Shit, you can stay in the room but I’ll _make sure_ he’s more than _well behaved_. Where can I meet him?”

“Your gym okay?”

“Perfect place. Have a good set up just for the occasion. And don’t worry, Negan. I’ll be _gentle_ with him,” Paul slapped Negan on the back as he stood up. “The compensation is negotiable after the first introduction. I’ll be in touch to set up our _meeting,_ ” he tossed some bills on the table and walked out.

Negan sighed. After pouring back his beer and waiting a few minutes, he stood from the table and followed the direction Paul had gone. When he exited the bar there was no trace of the man anywhere. Negan walked over to his truck. He pulled open the door and greeted Carl with raised eyebrows.

“That proof enough?” Negan pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, turning it off as he tossed it on the seat.

Carl had his arms crossed and was staring pensively across the street. “How far up does this thing go?” He asked incredulously.

“I take it that means you could hear everything okay?”

Carl turned and glared at him as Negan pulled himself behind the wheel, slammed the door shut, then ran his fingers through his hair.

Negan rolled down his window, placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. Finally he answered Carl's question, “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“Maybe-” Carl paused. He thought a moment before trying again, “I know you’re not going to like it but, what if I _actually_ go through with it? See how high it goes? We can get a list and-”

“No fuckin’ way,” Negan scoffed, blowing smoke out the window. “If you think I’m handing you over to some fuckin’ pedo ring you better check your goddamn head because you left your fuckin’ brains at home.”

Smirking, Carl teased, “I think you’re just afraid I’ll _like_ it.”

“Yeah, sure. You getting your asshole destroyed by fat fuckin’ bastards in their 60s chugging away at viagra? You’re gonna fuckin’ _love_ that.”

“You jealous? Am I supposed to say _you’re_ the only bastard in their 60s I want destroying my asshole?”

“How the hell old do you think I am?” Negan asked petulantly. Shaking his head, he added, “Even though you’re _eager_ to throw your prison purse at any decrepit dick you find, it’s not going to fuckin’ work. The goddamn _second_ Pedo Paul sees your fucking _socket_ he’s going to realize something isn’t quite adding up. Sorry kid, but you’re not exactly ideal _professional material_ with that shit. Hard to use you as leverage to get a meeting with the big boys.” Negan shook his head, “No, we’ll just beat the hell out of him the old fashioned way until he gives us a list of names. Then we’ll work our way up the chain.”

“So how the hell am I getting a meeting with him in the first place if the _second_ he sees my face he knows something is wrong?”

“Don’t worry about that. I have it under control. You’re going to be _shy_. Drown yourself in some of that oversized shit you love so much. Something with a hood. I’ll show up ahead of time to make sure everyone has cleared out.”

“Are we doing it _there?_ ”

Bringing his cigarette up to his lips, Negan took a long drag. Blowing smoke out the window, he turned back to Carl and scratched his head. “We could make a statement with him.”

“Are you _insane?_ ”

“None of the other’s have been found. They’re all still AWOL as far as anyone knows. Douche Jock is on missing posters. He _might_ show up floating down the river eventually, in _pieces_ , but the other two might as well have never existed.”

“Yeah, okay, but just because there isn’t a trail doesn’t mean we have to _start_ making one. What the hell, Negan? Is this a power trip all of a sudden? This is how people get _caught_. Trophies and being cocky.”

“It’s not about a goddamn _legacy_ or some ego driven bullshit. It’s about making sure people find out what kind of fucker he is. _Was._ ”

Scoffing, Carl said, “Maybe we can find some kind of proof and leave it out for people to find but,” he shook his head, “Using him for a statement is just dangerous. And _stupid._ ”

“Alright, fine,” Negan flicked the butt of his cigarette out the window then put the truck into drive. “We’ll revisit this conversation at a later date.”

Carl shook his head incredulously as he looked out the passenger side window. As they drove down familiar roads, one’s Carl had been on his entire life, he began to look at them differently. Like he was seeing them for the first time. He paid close attention to the color of the houses and the shapes of the fences. Each little home perfect in it’s own way. He wondered what hell could lay beyond each front door. No one would know driving by _his_ house that some kid, the sheriff’s  _son_ , spent his weekends hunting down and murdering people.

“Look, I’m bringing you home.”

Rolling his eye, continuing to stare out the window, Carl didn’t reply.

“You hear me?” Negan asked.

“Yeah, I heard you.”

“Well,” Negan asked, “Where’s the bitching?”

“I have things to do at home. Would I prefer to be pinned down on your bed getting head for the next hour? Yes. But I’m sick of fighting you and I have shit to do.”

“Hour huh? Seems like you might be a little overly optimistic about your stamina there, kid.”

“More like I have confidence in my refractory period,” Carl smirked. “Those of us that don’t _need_ to _chug viagra_ don’t have problems getting it up _a few_ times. It’s okay if _you_ need to rely on your stamina, though. No matter what anyone says, it doesn’t make you any less of a man, Negan.”

“ _"Refractory period,’_ ” Negan laughed. “Where the hell did you hear that shit?”

“School,” Carl shrugged.

“Shit, I better update my syllabus if that’s the shit they’re including now.”

“Oh, god,” Carl shook his head in sudden realization. “Do you teach _sex ed?_ God, the poor kids.”

Laughing, Negan said, “Yeah, well, fuck you. You don’t seem to be complaining about _your_ education _._ ”

“Could use a little more sex in it,” Carl mumbled as he turned his head to look out the window.

“ _Besides,_ ” Negan continued, ignoring the remark, “I only teach it when they’re short staffed. I think I’m their last resort.”

“Jesus,” Carl shook his head, “I can’t imagine why.”

“You want me to throw in a few lessons this semester?” He teased, “Shit, I can just see you squirming at your desk, dick hard and leaking in your shorts. Everyone in the room watching while I’m talking about the safest ways to get your dick wet. Or the joys of prostate stimulation. I could even use _you_ for a demonstration. Milk you right in front of the class. I bet you’d _like_ that, huh? You ever stick anything up your ass before? I mean like really up there. With intention.”

Carl’s face burned hot. He continued to stare out the window, willing Negan to shut up.

“Fuck, you do that while you’re jerking off, you might just black out a while.”

“ _That’s_ your sex ed lesson?” Carl asked sarcastically, purposefully not meeting his eyes. “Shove something up your ass?”

Grinning he replied, “For you? Yeah. And I have some homework for you too.”

Curiously, Carl couldn’t resist to turn and catch Negan’s eye.

“You _try_ it and get back to me,” he winked.

“What, you want a report on it?”

“I want a full fuckin’ report, complete with sources, and your dick on my bed by tomorrow evening.”

Smiling ruefully, Carl replied, “Think I might be able to handle that.”

“I think _I’ll_ be the one handling that.”

“Yeah, if you’re not being an asshole and a tease.”

Negan laughed as he finally pulled up to the driveway of Carl’s house. He parked the car, but left it running. Biting his lip. He looked over the yard.

Instead of opening the door, Carl looked to Negan as he studied his house.

“You-” Carl hesitated confused, “You _don’t_ want to come in, _do_ you?”  
  
Laughing loudly, Negan replied, “Fuck _no!_ No.” He shook his head, “I was just thinking, every-fuckin’-thing we’re doing, what you and I are _up_ to, and it’s all _right_ here under the goddamn sheriff's nose. I’m parked in fuckin’ _Ranger Rick’s_ driveway while making plans to _seriously_ fuck up a raping monster of an asshole and later seriously fuck up his _son’s_ asshole. And he doesn’t know a goddamn thing.”

Scoffing, Carl said disgusted, “You _really_ just said that? _Really_?”

Flashing his white teeth, smiling wide with a hint of his dimples, Negan turned to Carl, “Gotta admit, it gets me all hard knowing your daddy is probably inside, not knowing a single fuckin’ thing about how his precious baby boy found a daddy all his own. Oh, and you are just _counting down_ the fuckin’ days until I let your ass take my dick.”

“You know, Negan, you do a lot of talking. I already know you’re full of shit, but if the time ever _does_ come, you’re setting the bar pretty high for yourself. I don’t think you’re going to meet my expectations,” Carl smirked and opened the door. Jumping out, he turned around and added, “So, you better not let me down.” He slammed the door on Negan’s laugh and walked away from his truck hiding a smile of his own.

He gave a weak attempt to hide his grin but couldn’t quite master it as he opened the door to his house and walked into the kitchen. Rick was leaning over the counter flipping the pages of the newspaper.

“You’re home?” Carl asked surprised.

“I actually live here, you know.”

“Could have fooled me,” Carl smiled, teasing but without bite.

For a second Carl wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything. Rick’s face dropped solemnly and he furrowed his brow, “Carl, you know I’d be here if I could, right? Things are,” he paused sighing, “Not great at work right now.”

“What’s going at the station?” He asked carefully.

“Nothing,” Rick shook his head deflecting. “Nothing. The usual.”

His heart raced as his mind immediately raced to thoughts of being caught. What if they had found a body and he’d link it back to them? It was only a matter of time before he’d find out. Calming his breathing, he turned away to busy himself with his phone. Carl asked hesitantly, “Is it about that guy? From the mugging? Did you ever catch him?”

“Not yet. We have some leads.”

“Has anyone else been attacked?” He breathed cautiously.

“No, thank God. At least that’s one thing in our favor.”

Carl flipped through the apps on his phone absently, not paying attention to what he was doing as he nodded.

Rick cleared his throat, “Look, Carl, I wanted to ask you, was that your gym teacher bringing you home?”

Heart pounding, Carl froze with his thumb hovering over the screen of his phone. With baited breath, he waited for his dad to finally admit he knew what they’d been doing.“Uh, yeah?” He replied carefully.

“How much time do you spend with him?”

 _Fuck,_ he thought, hoping like hell that he wasn’t giving anything away. “Um, I don’t know?”

“Well,” Rick crossed his arms, “Don’t you think it’s a _little_ weird that he hangs out with students?”

Staring intently at his phone, Carl swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head, “I dunno. Probably. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but _I’m_ a little weird. Especially _this_ year.”

Ignoring Carl’s self depreciating humor, Rick asked, “What about your friends? Do they go over there too? Your girl?”

“Uh,” Daring to meet his dad’s eyes, Carl answered, “He has a lot of those game days. Pool and stuff.”

“Does he give them a ride home too?”

His heart sank. Berating himself he could feel the blush rising high across his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he tried to shrug casually. “Probably not as much as me. He’s been helping-”

“-you with your physical therapy,” Rick interrupted. “I know. His truck looked familiar. Was he the one that dropped you off the other night? It was late.”

Carl walked past Rick and opened the pantry cupboard. Hiding as he pretended to search for a snack he lied, “No. That was Trevor’s.”

“I could have sworn it was the same truck.”

“When is Mom getting home? I’m starving,” his voice sounded weak to his ears as he tried to change the subject.

“She’ll be home in an hour,” he replied curtly. “You can have your friends over here, you know. You don’t have to bother your teacher all the time.”

“Dad,” Carl shook his head, finally facing him. “What’s the problem? I hang out at his place sometimes. Other kids do too. It’s not _that_ weird.”

“What did you do today? You had a big smile on your face when you came in.”

“I don’t know, _Dad_. Just hung out.”

“You must be getting pretty good at pool by now. Maybe you and I could play a game sometime? This weekend?”

“I guess,” Carl shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Whatever. If you want.” Carl was hoping like hell that the only reason for the interrogation was because of Rick’s guilt from being gone so much. Not that Carl had even noticed. He figured telling his dad that would only make him feel worse.

Rick nodded, “Great.” He smiled.

“Wait, not this weekend,” Carl remembered suddenly. He was stupid to have forgotten so soon but all of the questions from Rick had him on edge, “I have plans this weekend. But soon, though. Okay, Dad?”

“You hanging out with your girlfriend?”

“ _Not_ my girlfriend,” Carl opened his phone again as a quick distraction.

“Sure, well,” Rick smiled, “Whatever you want to call her. Your _friend?”_

“It’s not like we’re going to be alone or anything,” he offered. He _wouldn’t_ be alone, not with Paul in the mix, and at least he could give Rick that much truth.

“You like her though? Why don’t you ask her out? What’s her name? Can you at least tell me that much?”

“Dad,” Carl groaned.

“Look, I’m trying here okay? I don’t know when you got to be so closed off with me. I know we’ve had our rough patches, but I’m just trying to know what’s going on in your life. You never talk to us anymore.”

Pangs of guilt hit Carl in the stomach. Rick was only trying to be a good father. He just wanted to spend time with him, not pin multiple homicides on him. He took a deep breath and decided to open up, “It’s complicated okay? It’s not as easy as us just going on a date. There’s-” Carl shook his head, “Other people involved that they’re seeing and it’s nothing serious, not like they’re cheating or anything, but it isn’t as simple as just asking someone out on a date.” Smirking to himself, Carl couldn’t even imaging what dating Negan would be like. Then again, he figured what they were doing probably _was_ Negan's ideal date.

“But you _do_ like her?”

“We have fun together,” he shrugged. “We like doing the same things. He doesn’t treat-” Carl froze, “ _She_ -” he quickly corrected. But it was too late. Rick caught his mistake.

“He?”

“She! _She_ doesn’t treat me like I’m some kind of freak,” Carl spat out quickly.

“Carl-”

“She. _Dad._ I meant ‘she’. It just-”

“Carl, it’s okay!” Rick assured. “Is _that_ what’s been going on here? Is that why you’ve been so distant?”

“I’m not gay!” Carl insisted as his face burned red. He felt like at least _that_ was the truth. Carl didn’t really know what the hell he was. He really _wasn’t_ attracted to other guys. Or other girls, not since the accident. He knew no one would ever look at him that way so he stopped himself from looking. At least he _hadn’t_ been looking until everything with Negan started happening.

Negan made him feel good. He didn’t talk down to him in a way that made him feel like he was underestimated. Though he teased him, Negan didn’t treat him like a kid. He understood what he was capable of and he encouraged him. And that had been so important to Carl since the school year began.

“Okay,” Rick said slowly.

Tense and highly alert, Carl only wanted to run as far from him as possible. Out of all the things his dad could discover, letting it slip that he was hooking up with a guy wasn’t the one he was prepared for. Taking a deep breath his voice shook as he spoke, “It’s _not_ like that.”

“Right. Okay,” Rick nodded awkwardly and crossed his arms, “But it if _was_ like that, it would be okay.”

He squeezed his eye tight and brought his hands over his face. There wasn’t any way he could escape it now. He tried to slow his breathing but he still couldn’t open his eye to look at his father. Rubbing his face he pleaded in a quiet voice, “Don’t tell mom.”

Rick hummed noncommittally, forcing Carl to finally meet his eyes.

“Dad, _please?”_ It was bad enough that he let it slip to Rick but his mom would make it so much worse.

“Carl,” Rick said carefully and took a step forward. “You know we love you no matter what, right?”

Carl scoffed. Hooking up with a guy was one thing. Hooking up with his fucking _teacher_ was another. Hunting down and murdering perverts, he was pretty sure might be pushing it.

“Hey,” Rick said gently. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head and avoided Rick’s eyes again. His throat was tight and it was impossible to swallow. With his stomach in knots, he tried to calm his breathing. “ _Please_ don’t tell her,” he begged weakly.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rick put his hands on his hips. “Okay,” he agreed.

Looking at him skeptically, Carl asked, “Really?”

Rick nodded, “I get it. I know it’s difficult. If you want to be the one-” he shrugged, “Or if you’re not ready, I can keep a secret.”

Sighing in relief, Carl said genuinely grateful, “Thanks.”

“So,” Rick started.

“Yeah,” Carl confirmed awkwardly.

“You know, just because you’re not getting anyone pregnant doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still-”

“Dad!” Carl interrupted. “Stop it!”

Rick laughed quietly and Carl couldn’t hold his own in. He shook his head, incredulously wondering how the hell they were talking about _that._

Taking a deep breath, Carl finally admitted quietly, “I’m really _not_ gay. Or at least I don’t think so. Since the accident-”

“Hey,” Rick said pained, “If you don’t think girls will like you because of your eye, you’re damn wrong. High school is hard for everyone. I know you have it rough. But there will be plenty of women that will appreciate you.”

Cringing, “It’s _not_ that either. Maybe it was at first. This just kind of happened, okay? I wasn’t planning on it and it’s not anything even worth talking about. So, can we _please_ just drop it?”

“How about we make a deal? I’ll leave it alone if you open up a little more to me on your own, and maybe we play that game of pool sometime soon?”

Smiling, he replied, “How about if you win that game of pool I’ll tell you more about him?” His heart raced feeling for the first time like maybe he’d have someone to confide in. Not about what was really going on, but his stomach jumped at the chance to actually be able to talk, even vaguely, about Negan.

He was lonely. He knew it. Negan helped but he couldn’t exactly talk to him about how for the first time in months he finally felt alive again. Or how much he loved how Negan made him feel with just a smartass remark or cocky grin. Carl had to concede that it might be nice to share some of what was going on in his mind with someone else. Not that he wanted it to be his dad, but he was genuinely glad he at least cared enough to ask.

Rick smiled and nodded, “Sounds good to me.”

The conversation had not gone how Carl had planned but he at least felt like something productive had come from it. Any weird behavior he might be displaying, any extra frustration, or acting more withdrawn, Carl could blame it on this. He had a somewhat legitimate excuse and he’d be able to use it to his advantage. Open up to his dad without ever having to tell the truth. He felt relieved that maybe it had even been a good thing that Rick was able to pull that information from him. At least it would be a little easier at home for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 100 episodes! I was still kind of working on this chapter but decided to put it out early once I realized it was the premiere and 100th episode of TWD. Apologies for all the typos, I'm sure there will be even more than normal! <3 Thank you guys so much for all the love and support. For those reading FMF, I'm starting to write that again so expect more coming your way soon!


	14. Chapter 14

He'd been on edge waiting for Negan all day. The sun hadn’t quite set when Carl finally got the text. Light was still peeking through the trees but night would fall soon enough. He was nervous about being easily seen, especially knowing that his dad had been watching him more closely recently. A complete blanket of darkness would put him more at ease.

Normally the impatient itch to dole out his own brand of justice was festering it’s way through his blood by now. Insatiable. Unrelenting. But the intensity of Negan’s own enthusiasm made him feel like _he’d_ need to be the responsible one this time. Not that the excitement wasn’t welcome, but Carl felt sinister warnings whisper through his mind for this one. A shadow of uncertainty that would force him to be extra vigilant.

He stood at the end of the block, waiting for Negan’s truck. He used a cover story to escape his parents for the weekend, with his dad giving him a knowing smirk the whole time.

It made him sad and his heart clench to know that they’d never truly understand the dark current running through his veins. He’d like to use the excuse of his accident, or even the attack against him, but they were only the tipping points. Final cracks in the glass that allowed his shreds of integrity to crumble. Those anguished daydreams were old friends and indulging in them was the best he could ever remember feeling, until he discovered acting on them.

It didn’t mean that he didn’t still mourn the loss of the son his parents thought they had. Maybe someday they’d see him for what he was. Maybe not entirely, but enough to know who he could be. But he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

Negan’s truck finally pulled up to the sidewalk allowing him to open the door and climb in.

Greeting Carl with a smile, Negan asked, “You ready?”

Drowning in his oversized hoodie, Carl shrugged, “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“You guess?” Negan shook his head as he drove. “You started this whole fuckin’ thing, Carl.”

“It’s not that,” he quickly said. “This is _your_ thing. You want this asshole? I’m in. But there are a couple of unknown variables here! What’s the setup of his gym like? Does he have security cameras anywhere? How about other witnesses? When he doesn’t show up afterwards, it’s not going to be like the others. They’re going to know the last place he was at and who he was with. This whole thing is just a little too dangerous.”

Scoffing, Negan laughed, “ _Now_ you’re worried about _danger?_ Hell kid, taking out this fuck isn’t exactly going to be hard. You’re overcomplicating it. What _you_ need to worry about is acting like you just got your first pube and remember not to drink or eat a single-fuckin’-thing he gives you.”

“Not that I plan on it, but why?”

“He wants to roofie you up, or whatever the hell the current date-rape-drug-of-choice is. The whole story is you’re a promising athlete with a shit homelife. I’ve taken you under my wing and I’m passin’ you along, brainwashing you into believing that your whole life will be set if you let all these old fucks get their meat pistons in you. If I can maneuver it, I’ll tell him I plan on doping you up. If that happens, just fake being tired, lay back and think of England. But if that motherfucker gives any fucking drop of any fucking thing, you pass on that shit.”

Sighing, Carl thought over his cover, “Okay, I’ll keep my eye out for roofies.”

“I feel like there’s a low hanging joke about your eyeball in there somewhere. Probably in your empty socket.”

“Hilarious,” Carl deadpanned.

Negan laughed quietly to himself as they continued to drive across town to Paul’s gym. When they were still a couple blocks away, Negan found a secluded parking spot away from anyone casually walking by and far enough from the gym that he wouldn’t been seen.

Carl grabbed the gym bag Negan packed and heaved it over his shoulder. They walked toward the gym.

“I’m going in first, get the lay of the land, the whole tour. If there’s any fuckin’ reason this is a fuckin’ shitty idea, we’ll reschedule. Follow my lead. I’ll make the first move. For now, stay here and come about ten minutes behind me.”

“Okay,” Carl nodded. He watched as Negan walked away, hands jammed into his coat pocket.

Shifting on his feet, the weight of the duffle bag on his shoulder pulled him to one side. The bat, maybe gloves, peroxide, and who the hell knew what else Negan put in there. Carl had his knife in his back pocket and his injured hand bandaged up tight. He briefly regretted not putting a glove over his hand and considered digging through the bag to see if there were any extras.

Inhaling, instead he brought his fingers up to sift through his hair making sure to arrange it in a way that would cover his eye. He pulled his hood up and walked the rest of the way to the gym.

With each step closer he became more confident. Focusing on what horrors Paul was putting kids through in this very building helped build his rage. Negan was right. Paul and the rest of the fucks were going down.

Standing outside the door, he took a deep breath and pulled it open. Stepping inside, the hallway was dim. Carl appeared to have walked into a reception area but it was dark and void of people. Down a hallway he saw some light and slowly walked closer.

He could hear Negan and Paul talking. Laughing about something. Jamming his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, Carl walked toward their voices.

As he approached, he saw a brightly lit room with an assortment of gym equipment scattered around. Weights, machines, medicine balls, and a few things Carl hadn’t seen before. He didn’t have to hide his trepidation as Negan walked over to him.

“Carl! About goddamn time you got your ass over here. We can’t keep Paul waiting all night, can we?” Negan walked over and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

Looking down, and trying his best to act younger than he was, he glanced briefly at Paul then shied away, “Sorry, Mr-”

“Paul is fine,” the man interrupted. “We’re all old friends here,” he winked.

“Oh shit, I forgot to tell you,” Negan grabbed Carl’s face with one hand and forced him to make eye contact. “He just had this new treatment done on his eye so it’s looking a little fucky right now. He has to keep it wrapped.”

“As long as it isn’t permanent and you’re still on track for varsity, I don’t think that’s a problem.”

Carl shook himself out of Negan’s grip and continued to look down, hiding under his hood. He could feel the cockiness radiate from Negan. He was revelling in a young, shy, emotionally damaged Carl. He made a note to himself to mock Negan about it later.

“So,” Carl shrugged, “Am I supposed to do something here? Are you going to show me how to work the machines?”

“Sure, sure, kid. Before we do that, though, I just need you to sign a few waivers. It’s just a safety precaution that my insurance company needs to see.”

“Don’t you need my parents for that? Because I don’t know if they’ll do it.”

Paul gave Negan a knowing glance before saying, “I think your coach here about covers that part.”

“Oh, okay,” Carl replied, playing up his naivete.

“Follow me then,” Paul waved them out of the gym and back down the hallway.

Negan still had his hand resting on Carl’s shoulder. He squeezed once tight in reassurance then leaned down to whisper, “Game’s on, kid.”  Letting go, Negan walked quickly in front of him, leading him through the hall and off to a door Carl hadn’t noticed.

Paul took out a ring of keys and unlocked the it. Opening the door, he turned on a light to reveal a short set of stairs leading to a basement. Clutching the strap of the gym bag, Carl followed them down.

“Sometimes I don’t make it home if I’ve been working late. It’s easier to have a place to kick back,” Paul explained.

Looking around the room, Carl saw a desk with varying heights of paper stacked and nestled around a camera. There were a few free weights lying carelessly on the floor. Two cushioned chairs were positioned next to the desk. But what caught his attention was on the right. Carl saw at the end of the room a full sized bed tucked into the corner. There was a small fridge across from it.

Carl’s stomach lurched at the thought of all the kids Paul had brought down here before. How many had he done this to? What was the extent of depravity this room had seen?

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable,” Paul said, extending his hand toward the bed.

Carl looked at the bed then back to Negan.

Walking toward Paul, Negan put his arm around the man. Leaning close to Paul’s ear, Carl watched as he whispered something he couldn’t quite make out.

“Sure, in the fridge,” Paul replied.

Negan winked as he walked past Carl. Reaching the fridge, he opened the door and pulled out a beer. Twisting the top, he sat on the bed. “Come ‘ere, kid,” he instructed. “Try to relax a little. I told you it’s going to be _just_ like try outs. Only you already know everything you need to do to make the cut and you are _damn_ good at it.”

Lifting his eyebrow curiously, Carl approached and hesitantly sat on the bed next to him, dropping the duffle to his feet.

Negan’s hand wandered to his thigh where he squeezed suggestively. Carl looked up to see Paul smiling at them knowingly. The rage that welled up inside from the smug look Paul was throwing his way helped fuel Carl’s desire to do what they had planned.

Clearing his throat, Paul said, “Let me just get the paperwork ready.”

Nestling his lips next to Carl’s ear, Negan whispered, “You wanna give him a show? Maybe I should blow you right in front of him, let him see what an _eager_ participant looks like for once.”

Carl silently cursed the blush creeping across his cheeks. Even though Negan had followed through on admitting exactly how much Carl got him off, Carl was still unsure of himself. No one had ever looked at him the way Negan did. No one had made his heart race with anger and frustration and lust like Negan. What was happening between them was never supposed to. Not just the body count but the fucked up way they started looking at each other. Negan was so confident and brazen and Carl was still confused about how he even made it on his radar.

Leaning in he replied, “I don’t think he deserves it. You can fuck me over his cooling corpse, though.” He smirked and looked down quickly, continuing his shy act.

The bed shifted slightly from the deep laugher next to him. He felt it move again when he heard Negan take a drink from the bottle. Carl looked at him to see Negan’s hand extending the bottle, offering it to him.

When he met Negan’s eyes, he saw him biting his lip and lifting his eyebrows, “Might as well break a _few_ rules tonight, huh kid?” He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, it’s safe. Play dumb, though.”

He took the bottle and threw back a swig without hesitating. It wasn’t the first beer he’d ever had but he didn’t exactly want to indulge either. They had too much riding on the night going well to screw it up by getting drunk with Negan. He saved the thought for another time, though.

When Negan grabbed the bottle back from him, Carl noticed the teasing glint shining in his eyes. While Paul was at his desk, Carl carefully looked over the room. The door had been firmly shut behind them but it wasn’t far to reach it. He noticed then that there was a lock on the inside, preventing someone from leaving if Paul chose. He wondered if Paul locked it on their way in.

On the desk sat random trophies. Carl rolled his eye figuring it was to impress whoever he brought down there. The metal hand weights of various sizes were scattered by the floor of the desk and tucked carelessly to the side. Carl wondered if he used them as a way to help _guide_ any of the kids, like an obvious move on a bad date.

“So Carl,” Paul sat down at one of the leather chairs. There was a digital camera sitting on the desk, blinking red and pointed in his direction. “I like to kind of do interviews as part of bringing on new members to the gym.”

“Are you going to put it online?”

“Oh, no no,” Paul laughed. “This is just for our private records. Someday you’ll appreciate being able to see how far you’ve come in your training.”

“Okay,” Carl looked down bashfully.

“Now, why did you want to seek a professional for extra help?” Paul asked.

Carl looked nervously to Negan. The role playing charade didn’t do much for him, but he could tell Negan was fully indulging in it. Carl shrugged in response to the question.a

Negan wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulder, “Relax, kid. This is the man who can make you a goddamn star. He _wants_ to help you make it to the _top_. You just have to start on the _bottom_ first.” Negan winked and leaned in to Carl’s neck whispering, “You’re starting to get tired.” His lips trailed teasingly along Carl’s neck making him shiver as he pulled away.

Following his instruction, Carl slowly slumped his shoulders and drooped his head. “Um, I don’t-” he spoke quietly, looking to Negan for feigned reassurance, playing up his role for the voyeur in the room. “I think I need some air."

“You’re okay,” Negan reassured. “If you want, I can make you _feel_ better.”

His stomach jumped as he realized Negan would soon have his hands on him. Anytime he touched him, Carl felt the exhilaration of the unknown. The yearning in his body was never satisfied by Negan’s touch, but he trusted him with his carnal expertise to sate him for a time. Though it frustrated him, Carl didn’t think he’d ever get enough. But he’d always take anything he was given.

He knew Negan got off on that.

Throwing an uneasy look back to Paul, Carl shook his head to answer Negan. Trying to convey his timid embarrassment.

“Hey, he understands,” Negan placed his hand on his cheek tenderly and turned Carl back toward him.

“I don’t-”

Negan’s lips silenced his artificial protest.

Carl lived for the burn of that beard against his cheek and the ever growing familiar taste of his mouth. He fought to remain as fragile as he could, but it was difficult knowing that those same lips kissing his had once been wrapped tight around his dick. The tongue exploring his mouth had tasted him in so many ways. He was jealous that he couldn’t get his own lips around Negan, but trusted he’d get there soon enough.

Moaning as Negan moved his hand to rub over his cock, Carl shivered against Negan suddenly remembering the reason they were there.

A strong hand wrapped around his neck and Negan’s lips wandered to his ear, “You like an audience, hmm?” Biting gently at his ear, Negan smiled, “He’s recording every fuckin’ second of this and probably jacking off too. This is his blackmail for joining the group. Let’s give him a fucking show.”

As Negan pulled back from Carl, he let himself fall limply on the bed. He closed his eye and allowed himself to imagine how the others who had been in that bed must have felt. Helpless and confused with a cloud of fear hanging over them. He pretended he could no longer lift his limbs, just waiting for Negan to return to him.

Do whatever the hell he wanted with him.

They were going to kill the bastard but there was no rush, especially because he was on the hook. It wasn’t like Carl really _wanted_ an audience but he figured the guy would be dead enough soon anyway. It wouldn’t matter what he saw when his skull was splattered over the floor.

The thought made Carl moan in anticipation. He arched his back weakly, hoping Negan would return to him. Remembering that he was supposed to be drugged, Carl slowed his breathing and let his fingers roam slowly across his abdomen. His shirt was shifted up, baring the tender skin to the cool temperature of the room. Lightly trailing the tips of his finger around his delicate skin, he gave himself goosebumps waiting, hoping Negan’s tongue would soon be all over him instead.

Blinking open his eye, he focused to the foot of the bed where his legs still hung off. Negan stood there with his cocky grin, staring down at him. He knew he should feel more nervous than he was, but Negan’s confidence put him at ease. This one was entirely his idea. Carl just had to enjoy the ride. And if he could do his part to help Negan indulge in this new found hobby, he was going to.

Negan returned, crawling over him enough to straddle his thighs. Carl sighed from the comfort of the pressure.

Remembering the facade he was portraying, Carl lifted his hand limply, trying to resist, “Negan, don’t,” he whispered. “Not here.” He wanted to look at Paul but Carl couldn’t take his eye from the face in front of him.

Licking his bottom lip, Negan moved closer, breathing lightly over his face. Carl closed his eye and focused on the warm feeling of the body above him.

“Turn over,” Negan demanded, moving his leg to the side so he was no longer straddling Carl.

Carl groaned and stretched slowly but didn’t roll over. “No, Negan,” he scratched weakly. “Not here.”

Strong hands gripped his arms just above his elbow. Negan forced him to sit, then threw his body to the side, making him roll onto his stomach.

Stretching feebly, Carl moaned into the bed hiding a smile. He knew Negan was strong but he’d never been on the receiving end of it before. He decided that might be something to explore next time they were alone. He wanted to see all of what Negan could do to him. As he adjusted himself face down on the bed, he was mindful enough to lift his ass just right, hoping to provide Negan with some new ideas of his own.

Laughing quietly, Negan straddled his legs allowing his hips to align with Carl’s ass if he moved _just_ right.

Lifting his hips, Carl tried to push back into him. He ached to feel Negan hard against him.

Negan’s fingers slid through Carl’s hair making him shiver. Grabbing a fist full, Negan pulled back, exposing the long line of his neck. Laying over his back, he leaned close to his ear and asked, “Can you show Coach just how goddamn _good_ you can be? You _know_ what it takes to stay on the team.”

Biting his bottom lip, he moaned a reply. He could feel how hard Negan was, rocking against his ass. It drove him crazy to feel him so close, his cock leaked, begging for attention. But yet there were still too many damn clothes between them. As promised, Carl tried to push back to feel more of the rutting against him. Pretending to be doped up was beginning to annoy him as all he wanted to do was pull down his jeans and get fucked into the mattress.

The rough tips of Negan’s fingers ran gently over his back underneath his shirt. He shivered from the touch.

The bed dipped suddenly. Carl lifted his head to see Paul sitting down next to him. Trying to fight the sudden panic, he took deep breaths.

Earlier when he’d suggested to Negan that he’d be able to going through each of the men, he didn’t actually think he’d _need to._ Swallowing nervously, Carl relaxed into Negan’s reaffirming touch.

He cringed as he heard Paul unzip his jeans. Negan leaned down close, next to his ear. The sudden weight of him on his back made Carl feel protected.

“Ready to get this show on the road?” He could hear the smirk in Negan’s voice.

Carl knew the question was for him, but he heard Paul speak up, “Is he out enough? It hasn’t been very long.”

“He’s well trained,” Negan sat up. “He hasn’t been spit roasted before so just go easy on him.”

Goosebumps ran down his arms at his crude phrasing.

The bed moved as Negan straddled his legs and held tight to his hips, “How many boys you have down here, anyway?”

Paul scoffed, “Enough to know how far to push them without anyone asking questions.”

“Who else is in on this?”

Narrowing his eyes, Paul asked, “Why are you asking all these questions? You and the kid do what I tell you, that’s how this works. You get paid half now and the rest after I match him up. That’s all you need to know.”

Carl felt the bed dip as Negan moved off of it and stood up. “I told you, this one’s special, Paul. Exactly what the hell are you going to do with him?”

“If you want to keep him for your own collection,” Paul stood from the bed much to Carl’s relief, “That’s your choice. But what we do when you’re not here? That’s none of your business.”

Remaining still on the bed, Carl breathed slowly. He turned his head and groaned, playing weak. He opened his eye to find Negan digging through the duffle bag and pulling out a black leather glove.

“You know,” Negan flashed a cocky grin, “I kind of think I might be _making_ it my business. Why don’t you sit the hell down.”

“What?” Paul scoffed. “If you don’t want to go through with this, you can get the hell out of my office. And don’t even think for a second about going to the police. I have you on tape, rubbing yourself all over him. Who are they going to believe, huh? At the very least you can kiss your job goodbye.”

“Yeah, you’d know all about that huh?” Negan pulled the bat from the bag and rested it over his shoulder. Taking a step closer to Paul he added, “By the way, in case I forgot to mention earlier, this is Carl _Grimes._ If you’re not too invested in local politics, that’s understandable, but you should probably fuckin’ know, his _daddy_ is the sheriff.”

Carl wasn’t sure if he should let on that he was awake and conscious. He wanted to give Negan every advantage he could and he knew Negan wanted to make the first move. He decided to stay quiet.

“Why are you fuckin’ around with a _cop’s_ kid?” Paul asked. “And why the _hell_ would you think it was okay to bring him here?”

“A little reckless, right? See, Carl has been _beggin’_ for it for months. You should see how pretty his cock leaks every time I tell him, ‘no.’ Drives him fuckin’ crazy. Makes him eager to do _whatever_ the hell I want.”

Scoffing silently at Negan, Carl held his breath and continued not to move.

“I was a little concerned at first but fuckin’ around with him _right_ under Daddy’s nose? Just icing on the fucking cake. But now, _unfortunately_ , you just aren’t going to have that same satisfaction as I have with Carl here.” Negan swung the bat gently, taking a step closer.

“What, you think you can threaten me? Do you _know_ how high up this goes? Sheriff is one thing, but this is _beyond_ him. You don’t know what shit you’re stirring here. I’m not afraid of you, Negan.”

Carl could feel Negan’s grin. Smiling himself, Carl slowly sat up from the bed and threatened, “You should be.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Negan swung the bat down hard. The wood connected firmly on the side of Paul’s shoulder sending him sprawling to the floor.

“I _told_ you to sit the hell down. Don’t be rude,” Negan smirked. “You know, you’re a big talker. You think I don’t know how high this thing goes?” Negan knelt down to meet Paul’s drooping, furious face. “Why don’t you _enlighten_ me then?”

“Or what? You’ll beat the shit out of me?” He groaned a sarcastic laugh. He looked to Carl nervously then back to Negan.

“Beat the shit out of you?” Negan turned toward Carl, “What do you think? Should we beat the ever loving fucking _shit_ out of him?”

Carl smiled back.

Paul coughed, “ _You_ can’t do anything to me, Negan. Whatever you do to me, they’re going to do ten times worse to you.”

Biting his lip, Negan studied Paul’s face. He took a long moment, waiting for the edge of uneasiness to creep in before finally asking calmly, “I don’t think there’s going to be anything left of you. They’re gonna have a hell of a hard time figuring out not only _what_ the fuck I did to you, but _who_ the fuck I am.” Lifting his eyebrows, he continued jovially, “I will put my money on that _any_ day!” He extended the bat slightly, enough to gently tap Paul’s cheek.

Cowering again, Paul asked, “What the hell is it you _want,_ huh?”

“Names,” Negan said confidently then stood and playfully swung his bat. “All the names. Every goddamn last motherfucking name you know.”

“Okay, okay!” He flinched as the bat came particularly close. “If I give you the names you’re going to keep me the hell out of this. You don’t know me. We’ve never met.”

“Sure,” Negan walked away from him and over to the desk. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Sauntering back to Paul with the bat over his shoulder, Negan dropped them at his feet. “We’re complete strangers. Never seen your fucking disgusting face in my life.”

“Like you’re any different?” He scoffed nodding at Carl.

Frowning, Negan knelt down next to him again. He studied his face for a long time and Paul finally seemed to understand what kind of trouble he was in. He shivered under Negan’s intrusive stare. He could feel the committed resolution behind Negan’s eyes and it haunted him.

Narrowing in, Negan threatened vaguely, “Couldn’t _agree_ with you more.” Unexpectedly, a smile broke across his face as he stood back up. “That’s what I keep trying to tell Carl here. He just wants me to fuck his brains out. Told him he has to wait until he’s eighteen. When is that again, Carl? I should make a countdown on my calendar.”

Carl clenched his jaw in annoyance, but didn’t answer.

Laughing, Negan said, “You’re just mad because you think I don’t _know._ I most certainly put that shit down on my _To Do_ list.”

“You want to get back to the point here?” Carl crossed his arms.

“See? Kid’s all business. But, I suppose he does have a good point.” Negan leaned back, “Names. Now.” His demand was firm.

Trembling, Paul reached toward the paper at his feet and grasped the pen nervously. It shook in his hand as he tried to hold on. “What about him,” he nodded at Carl. “Can he keep his mouth shut? How do I know I can trust him?”

Snorting, Negan said, “Carl here is one hell of an accomplice.” He walked toward him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Actually, I think _I_ might be _his_ accomplice. We never really hashed that out, did we? You were the one to start all this. Show up at my door with a hell of a long list. Fortunately for the population, your name was on it, Paul,” Negan smiled. Watching as Paul hesitated to give up the names, he added, “You don’t have to worry a goddamn second about him telling Daddy. He’s not going to let one fucking word slip by those tempting pink little jailbait lips of his.”

Carl glared at him, completely unimpressed by the condescension in Negan’s tone. He could see the glisten in his eyes shine playfully at him, practically begging him to fight back. They had enough to think about for one night. Carl would have plenty of time to take Negan down a peg when they were done. He ignored him as Negan continued.

“You do remember them, right? Or do I need to remind you?” He shook the bat.

Paul grimaced and crouched over the paper, scratching away angrily as he wrote the list.

Turning his back to Paul, Negan grinned wide at Carl. He leaned back in delight as he let the bat swing casually in front of him.

Carl focused intently on the way Negan came alive in front of him. He seemed genuinely happy, even jubilant, to wield his weapon. And it was _his_ weapon now. It was unspoken that the bat was an extension of him on these nights. It made him downright cheerful, waiting in anticipation for the next move.

Shaking nervously, Paul looked up, wide-eyed and uncertain, “You’re going to leave now, right? I give you the names and you get the hell out?”

A devious smile crept across Negan’s face. He turned toward Carl and shrugged.

The grin was infectious, Carl couldn’t hold back one of his own. They were getting close now. Drugging him. Tying him up. Carrying him off unconscious. Carl didn’t know what location Negan had planned to finish at but he trusted him blindly in it. The excitement trickling through his blood was beginning to settle low in his abdomen. The charged energy shared between them only strengthened as Negan took a step closer to Paul.

Crouching once again, Negan got to Paul’s level. “Let me just see that list.”

The paper shook between Paul’s fingers. Negan pulled it from his hand. He grinned wide and without looking at it, he said, “I think you forgot one.”

“No. Everyone is there! You didn’t even look, you-”

Negan licked his bottom lip and glanced at the paper before meeting Paul’s eyes. “Yep! You most certainly forgot one. I don’t see _your_ goddamn name on this list anywhere.” Negan stood quickly and pulled the bat high above his head.

As he was about to swing down, Paul stared wide-eyed. Snarling through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, he dove suddenly, right into Negan’s waist. Negan stumbled back, falling hard against the desk. Papers exploded onto the ground as Negan tried to fight him off. Paul swung wildly, punching hard into Negan’s stomach as they both dropped to the floor.

Acting quickly, Carl jumped. He scrambled around the room and grabbed a free hand weight laying on the floor. Lifting one hand, he threw the full weight of this arm into the back of Paul’s head, jarring him enough to drop and fall away from Negan.

Carl froze as flecks of blood sprinkled the floor. But Paul was unphased in his determination to escape. He turned toward the stairs and attempted to crawl wildly in the direction of the door.

Never hesitating, Carl strode over to him and once again threw a punch connecting the weight in his hand with the back of Paul’s head. He could feel the scrape of his skin on his knuckles from the metal of the weight as it connected hard against his skull.

Paul clambered on the ground, slowly raising his arms in an attempt to protect his head.

Before he realized it, Carl was standing with either foot straddling his legs as Paul tried to curl into himself in a ball. Carl's fist with the weight was already colliding into his skull and the arms which weakly tried to protect him. It was enough to knock blood from him as it struck. Paul fell back to the floor, head dropping limply as he hit the hard linoleum with a dull thud.

Breathing heavily, Carl approached him and dropped to his knees allowing his fist to once again hit hard against the man’s temple. He repeated it again and again. Driving his fist into him without thought. Only clear intention.

“Hey, psycho,” Negan called behind him.

Shaking himself from the moment, Carl dropped the weight and stood back, finally taking in the scene before him. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Blood flowed freely from Paul’s face. Carl looked down at his hands. Shaking. His own injured palm had broken open and was bleeding. He hadn’t noticed the sting of the injury at the time. He wasn’t sure if blood dripping from his knuckles was his own or if it was Paul’s.

Crouching down, Negan studied the listless body, “Shit.”

“Did I kill him?” Carl panicked.

“Well”, Negan sighed standing up again. Raising the bat high, swiftly he swung down hard, cracking loudly against Paul’s skull. Carl stared at him in amazement as he drove it down again and again. Cracking against bone. Picking up more blood with each swing and flinging drops wildly around the room as he drove the bat down again.

“He sure as shit is dead now,” Negan said breathlessly as he leaned back. Turning, giving Carl a smile, he added, “ _That_ did _not_ go as planned.”

“Goddamn it,” Carl breathed unevenly. “He was getting away! I had to stop him!” Looking down at his trembling hands, his blood soaked fingers shaking uncontrollably, he knew that soon his knuckles would be swollen. He didn’t know how the hell he was going to hide that from his dad.

Turning to fully face him, Negan sauntered to Carl with a confident grin, “I dig that whole ‘fuckin’ nuts’ vibe you got goin’ there. Think I understand why you are always sportin’ a chubby after you see me get a little primal. My adrenalin is still high, blood is still pumpin’ but, hell, it is rushin’ hard and _fast_ to my dick. Need to get that energy out somehow since I didn’t get to fucking destroy this piece of shit.”

Looking around the room, Carl said incredulously, “We _can’t_ do it _here!_ ”

“Thinking without your dick for once? I’m so proud of you,” Negan winked. “There’s already a fuckton of DNA floating around. Bleach alone isn’t going to fly.”

“What are we going to do?”

Sauntering to the dufflebag, Negan grabbed it and dropped it on the bed. Unzipping it, he pulled out a bottle of lighter fluid and tossed it to Carl.

“Is this going to get rid of everything?”

Negan shrugged, “It sure as shit better.”

Shaking his head, Carl sighed, “Fuck.”

“Look, Carl,” Negan leaned back. “I was thinking about doing this here anyway. His safe is here. It’ll survive the fire and when they open it they’ll find out exactly what kind of piece of shit he is. They won’t look too hard to find out how this happened. They’ll know he had it coming.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure that’s how the law works.”

Grinning wide, Negan said, “Then it’s a good thing we have a _connection_ to the law.”

“What the hell am _I_ supposed to do about it, huh? ‘I’d really appreciate it if you’d turn the other way on the arson-murder case you’re working on, Dad. The gym teacher I’m fucking and I would really appreciate a pass on that homicide. Oh and by the way, can you pass the meatloaf?’ I’m sure he’ll help us in a second.”

“Calm down,” Negan shook his head. “We don’t have a lot of options at this point. You have a better idea? I’m all ears.”

Pursing his lips, Carl turned back to look at the body on the ground. Beat past immediate recognition but still identifiable. “Goddamn it,” Carl swore, shaking his head. “Fine, just make sure you soak every last inch and it all goes up in flames.”

“You’re cute when you’re being a bossy dick.”

“Shut up,” Carl glared at Negan.

They worked quickly, soaking every corner of the place in accelerant. The dufflebag they brought had clean clothes to change into. Carl needed to wash out his injured hand but was afraid of leaving any more evidence of their presence.

“Grab the camera and get the hell out of here,” Negan ordered.

Carl took the camera from the floor where it had landed, “Do you still have the list?”

Negan reached into his pants pocket and handed it over to Carl. “Keep those together but we’ll need to burn them with the rest of the shit. Not here, of course. Not leaving any fucking thing that could trace back to us.”

Gripping the camera tight in his uninjured palm, he wondered what all had been recorded. He had nearly forgotten all about it but his curiosity began to grow. There was proof of Negan all over him. Grinding against his ass. His stomach churned nervously and his finger twitched to watch the video.

Carl swallowed the lump in his throat and walked toward the stairs. “You coming?”

“Hopefully soon,” Negan winked suggestively at him. “Gotta take care of this first.”

Turning around, Carl walked up the stairs without him. To his surprise, Paul had actually left the door unlocked. He had wondered if he was going to need to search through his pockets for a key. Walking out the door, he held it open, waiting for Negan standing at the bottom of the stairs. He saw him pull out a lighter. With one hand he held a stack of papers. They were engulfed in flames quickly and when Negn dropped it to the center of the floor, he turned and ran up the stairs.

“Come on,” he said passing Carl.

“Shouldn’t we,” Carl shrugged, “I don’t know? Stay and make sure it doesn’t get put out or something?”

Negan laughed, “Fuck kid, you can stay and roast marshmallows if you really want. I’m getting the hell outta Dodge while I still can.”

Carl stood a moment and watched the hot flamed consume the room below him. Letting the door fall shut, he followed Negan throughout the building. He lead them to a back door. When he stood outside, the crisp fresh air felt good against his aching skin. They walked quietly back to Negan’s truck and without a word he drove them away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, after the horribleness that was the mid season finale, I definitely plan on continuing PE and FMF (if you follow that one). MSF can't stop me! So... here we go with the next chapter!

During the drive back to Negan’s house Carl’s fingers continued to scratch around the camera. Itching in his palms to take it out and watch. See what it looked like to have Negan on top of him. The picture on his phone was one way to cement this new reality, but to see them together with Negan fully spread over him? That was something he had only been fantasizing about. Now there was the proof of it, burning right in his palm.

They reached Negan’s house without incident. Both exhausted when they walked through the door that lead to the kitchen.

“Take a shower. Leave your clothes on the bathroom floor,” Negan ordered.

He had no objections to Negan’s demand and quickly walked to the bathroom. Carl’s arms were weak and heavy from throwing punches with the weight. His knuckles  bruised and bloodied where they’d collided against Paul’s skin. 

Turning the shower on, he waited for it to warm as he removed his clothes. The bloodied ones still remained in the duffle bag but as he looked at the loose ones still hanging off his body he had to admit they were just as damning. Carl would never have been able to get the blood completely off, especially with how fucked up everything went down.

He dropped his jeans, thudding in a pool of fabric around his ankles he stepped out of them. Carl yanked his shirt over his head pulling the bandage with it, adding them to the pile before stepping into the shower.

Steam billowed around him while the hot water burned over his aching skin. It made him gasp from pain. It was too hot. He knew it. But he needed to be clean. Lathering himself with soap, he scrubbed at the dried blood feeling like it would be impossible to get off. But the evidence slowly trickled down his legs, swirled around the drain, and soon was gone. Tenderly, he washed out his palm. It wasn’t as injured as he thought, so most of the blood must have been Paul’s.

Carl’s skin was burning and pink, too hot from the water. He didn’t really mind the sting of it. The scratch of pain reminded him of where he was, what he was doing in that moment, _and_ the reasons _why_. His mind fell to the events of the night, dick swelling at the thought of everything that had happened. Remembering the way Negan kissed him. Practically worshiped his body. It made Carl’s hand wander languidely down his wet torso, stopping only when he could grip his cock tight at the base. 

The relief moan that escaped echoed into the bathroom more loudly than he intended. He stroked himself fully hard remembering the feeling of Negan’s lips on his. Water ran over his back as he bent over, pumping hard and breathing fast. 

The shower curtain opened sudden and violently, letting the warm air escape. 

“Jesus,” Carl jumped as Negan stood next him, entirely naked.

The thumping rush of his heart from being startled pounded hard enough to feel all over his body. Embarrassed from being caught, he looked away from Negan’s face only to stare awkwardly down his torso. 

“Move over,” he demanded, not even acknowledging that Carl had been caught with his dick in his hand. He had never seen Negan like this before. Not under the bright clinical light of the bathroom.

Quickly dropping his cock and shifting to the side, Carl provided room for Negan to step in front of him. He watched as the water ran over his hair and cascaded down his back. Carl’s dick twitched in the absence of his hand, a pleading reminder of what he’d been doing. He tried to ignore it and blamed the redness of his face on the heat, though it was impossible to hide his arousal. 

Negan ignored him which he wasn’t sure if he was thankful for or annoyed by, as he was focused only on the hot water rinsing over his body.

Shivering, though not from cold, Carl’s eye trailed down briefly studying the broad planes of his back and the tattoos decorating it. Breathing heavily, his heart raced as he studied his slender hips before finally reaching his ass. The water that ran down him was tinged with blood, as Negan rubbed his arms and rinsed off the soapy blood tinted mess. When Negan started to turn around, Carl quickly snapped his lingering gaze to Negan’s face.

Without saying a word, Negan reached out. Cupping Carl’s head he forced him closer and kissed him firmly. Negan licked into his mouth and Carl found himself moving forward effortlessly. His knuckles brushed against Negan’s dick in surprise. He moaned into Negan’s mouth as he felt his own cock bump against Negan’s as he was pulled closer.

“That’s my job,” Negan breathed possessively against his lips.

His stomach jumped when Negan’s fingers gripped firmly around him. It made him shiver into his grasp. He looked down and saw Negan’s hard cock and so damn close to his own. Carl’s eye glazed over wanting to touch him, taste him, anything other than stand breathing heavily in awe. 

Resting his forehead against Negan’s chest, he gripped Negan’s hips for balance. With each pump of the wrist Carl shivered against him. He tried to open his eye and watch the tip of his cock disappear in Negan’s fist but water ran into it, blinding him from the sight. Holding it shut tight, he tried to focus on the way Negan stroked him and the heat from the water running down his back.  

“You do what I told you?” Negan's voice was raspy and deep.

“Huh?” Carl asked indifferently.

“You stick anything up that virgin ass of yours yet?” He bit hard at Carl’s neck making his gasp.

“I-” he stammered nervously. He’d thought about it. He jerked off to fantasies of Negan fucking him for a while now, but he hadn’t quite been able to practice. Any time he tried he was quickly reminded of those other men. The first two of their victims, though they were anything but. Even though they hadn’t done much, the feeling of helplessness flooded over him when he thought about it. It always stopped him.

The vibrations of Negan’s laugh against his neck mixed with the stroke on his dick brought him back. With his fingers stroking Carl he easily pulled a moan from him. 

“Carl,” Negan said in his sing-song voice, “I remember being promised your dick on my bed and let’s just cut the shit. I’m fuckin’ exhausted as hell, and I’m getting tired of this little game.”

Carl’s heart stopped, he waited, concerned about what Negan would say next. He was finally done with him. He finally realized that fucking a student wasn’t just bad in itself but it was bad for his sex life. Carl knew he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Negan wouldn’t let him touch him to try, so it was partly his fault too. Carl started to worry that maybe he should have found someone to practice on before going to Negan’s. 

Negan let go of his dick. His hands reached up to Carl’s shoulders and Negan forced him to turn around. 

So that was it. After everything they'd shared, Negan was done with him.

But instead of turning the water off and leaving the shower, he felt Negan lean close against his back. Carl’s breath hitched as he felt the firm, hard length of Negan against his ass.

“Negan,” Carl didn’t know if it was a question or statement. His heart stopped.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and with one hand Negan gripped firmly around his cock. As Negan stroked him, Carl fell into his touch. With each pull and pump of his cock, Carl swayed back. Back into Negan’s hard, hot dick, teasing him. Knowing he was  _ right _ there. Right fucking there. Rutting back into him, Negan moaned as lips brushed his neck. 

The way Negan pushed his cock against the cleft of his ass made Carl lightheaded. He couldn’t think, just bent over and pushed back as Negan continued stroking him. Everything was a blur. The fog of the small room. Water running into his eye and mouth as he fought for air, gasping with each pull. He couldn’t fucking take it. It was all too much. Negan was so close. All he had to do was push in, the tip of Negan’s cock teased his hole with each brush against it. And Carl could feel the build deep in his stomach. Burning and blinding him. Blocking out anything other than the way Negan’s fingers worked him.

With his hand’s supporting himself against the shower wall, Carl thrust forward into Negan’s hand. Rocking, and easing into his fist. So close. So _ fucking  _ close.

He didn’t even know when it happened but suddenly Negan’s thumb brushed over his hole. Teasing him more. And it was so fucking unfair. 

Carl pushed back against the blunt pressure and felt Negan’s thumb force into him. Breathing slowly, his shoulders began to shake as he shifted himself further into Negan.

Negan pulled his hand away quickly but before Carl could complain at the loss, his finger was back, resistant but working into him. 

“Fuck,” Carl sighed as he pushed back again. It was just a finger but it felt so big. Full. But he wanted fucking more.

As Negan began to crook his finger back out, he rubbed into Carl just right.

Squeezing his eye closed tight, he trembled as his vision went black, coming, spilling himself against the tile of the shower wall. 

Only a few deep shaky breaths passed before he turned around. Falling to his knees without though, he didn’t give a damn what Negan would say as he grabbed his cock and pulled it into his mouth. 

Negan was bigger than he expected, but immediately he craved the way his cock twitched in his mouth. Running his tongue over his tip, he used his other hand to stroke. He pulled everything that he could and wrapped his lips tight. The taste of soap was faint as Carl moved his head, bobbing out and back in, trying to fit as much of Negan’s throbbing cock into his mouth as he could. 

Water from the shower ran down his face, blinding him. He wanted to look but couldn’t see through the stinging burn of water. Vaguely aware of Negan swearing above him, he felt a hand scratch around his head in an attempt to pull him away. 

Furrowing his brow in determination, Carl pushed forward, wishing he could take in more of him. The grip in his hair tightened and soon he was tasting Negan’s come, forcing itself down his throat. 

Carl moaned around him, lips still tight. He used his hand to pull the rest of the jizz out of Negan and licked lightly around his sensitive skin. 

Negan pulled away from him and his hand fell to gently cup Carl’s jaw. Carl stood up, knees creaking as Negan let go. He turned around and turned the shower off then stepped out of the shower.

Carl’s stomach jumped from the tension in the air. He _knew_ he wasn’t supposed to touch Negan but, fuck his stupid rules. Now he didn't know if breaking them would mean he was done. Maybe he did it wrong? 

When Carl stepped out he saw Negan had a towel around his waist and held one out to Carl.

“Sorry,” Negan shook his head.

“For what?” Carl wrapped the towel around himself. 

Negan turned around and walked away, Carl nervously followed him into his bedroom.

“That was fucked up. I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I mean, I’m fuckin’ exhausted and I figured it would be faster-” Negan shook his head walking to the bed. “Fuck it. I  _ wanted _ to get my hands on you,” he conceded. “But  _ that _ was _not_ cool. That shit wasn’t supposed to happen.” He pulled back the blanket and sat down on his bed. Throwing his towel to the side, he laid down pushing his feet under the blanket.

“Did I do it wrong?” Carl asked, suddenly more nervous than he had been all night. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer but he had asked before thinking.

Negan smiled and pulled the covers down, motioning to Carl to come to bed. “Shit, kid, you could have hit my dick with a brick at that point and I would have been firing my load all over you.”

Carl walked to his side of the bed and climbed under the blankets. Staring up at the ceiling, he said, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Laughing, Negan replied, “I’m not even going to lie to you. I should be telling you there will  _ not be _ a ‘next time’ but fuck, kid, you’re wearing me down. And I’ve never been known to have self control to begin with. I don’t have much faith in whatever the fuck is left.”

Smiling to himself, Carl said, “I want you to fuck me. Whenever you’re done with your internalized bullshit and you decide you want to stick your dick in me, my ass is waiting.”

Negan laughed again and pulled Carl close to him, kissing him deeply before pulling away. “Oh, I decided I wanted to stick my dick in you a while ago. The way you suck a cock just reaffirmed my belief that it’s worth the wait.” Negan rolled on his back, “That was a compliment, by the way. I’m not saying you need the time to up your game. I’m saying when I have less guilt about fucking a student it’s going to be worth all this  _ internalized bullshit. _ ”

Smiling to himself, Carl teased, “You think about fucking me at school? In your office?”

“Sounds like  _ someone _ might be thinking about it.” Sighing, Negan admitted, “No way in hell am I going to make it until your birthday.” Turning away from him, he added sarcastically, “Go the fuck to sleep and stop trying to get me fired.”

Carl smiled and turned on his side. His body still ached from the exertion of the evening, but he was relaxed. And beyond exhausted. It didn’t take long to fall asleep once he finally closed his eye.

* * *

Negan wasn’t in his bed when Carl woke up. He saw Negan had left his clean clothes on a small pile on the end. Stretching, easing his aching muscles, Carl grabbed the pile pulling them closer. As he searched for his boxers he felt something hard that wasn’t his cell phone. Curious, he uncovered the camera from the previous night, he’d entirely forgotten.

The corner of his mouth twitched up in a small smile as he turned it on. Besides a few scratches in the corners, it appeared to be undamaged. The screen of the camera appeared before Carl navigated to the main menu. He was able to find the file from the night before. It was the only file on the entire camera. Carl figured Paul saved each person on their own SD card. Hopefully that would bite his reputation in the ass once the cops were able to recover the contents of the safe. 

Listening closely to the sounds of the house, it was quiet. No trace of Negan. Carl knew he should search for him, help him get rid of their clothes, destroy the memory card and the camera. But the bright screen illuminated in his palm was too strong of a call to ignore.

Hitting play to start the file, he watched as the camera was manually adjusted, shifting back and forth on the desk where it sat. There was no audio but he knew Paul was talking. He could see himself sitting awkwardly in front of the camera, Negan by his side. Then Negan leaned in. Carl held his breath as he watched Negan whisper into his ear. 

Carl had always felt like he’d been able to curb the evidence of his attraction to Negan, but it was painfully obvious playing out on the small screen of the camera. Though, to his surprise, so was Negan’s. The way he leaned into him, his doting gaze was apparent. Maybe it was all in the role they were playing but he filed it away to better check himself in public around his  _ teacher _ .

Biting his lip in anticipation, Carl watched the feigned apprehension on his face right before Negan leaned in to kiss him. On the small screen Negan continued to manhandle him, rubbing a hand over Carl’s dick over his clothes, forcing him to kiss back, forcing him to lay down on the bed. Carl on the screen was still and unsure of himself. He had to concede that he’d played his part well.

Soon he watched as Negan was straddling him, gripping him tight and flipping him over violently on the small screen. It looked so much worse than it had actually been as he watched the bed bounced and himself with it. He craved the way Negan took control of him. Suddenly, Negan’s arms were braced beside him on the bed. His muscles flexed as he pushed against Carl. Then he was pulling on his hair and Carl had to admit it looked bad. From an outside perspective it looked exactly how they had wanted it to; a fucking desperate asshole taking advantage of a roofied kid.

Knowing the truth behind it, it was hot as hell. But then Paul was on the screen, ruining the way Negan was rutting against him. And then it was over.

Negan was standing, back to the camera as Paul cowered down in front of him. After an array of emotions filtered across Paul’s face, he was thrown into action. The camera was knocked over from it’s position, the screen a blur of images. Feet stomping. Knees on the ground. Until finally the image came back in focus. 

A perfectly clear but tilted view of Carl striking Paul in center frame. The repetitive motion of the blows and blood speckling through the air lead little to the imagination of what had transpired in that room. 

Carl swallowed the lump in his throat nervously and turned off the camera. As much as he wanted to keep the memory card, it had to be destroyed.

Standing quickly, Carl left Negan’s bedroom and searched through the house. When he found all the rooms empty he decided to check the garage.

The door was mostly closed, but about a foot was drawn open. Smoke filtered through in wisps as Carl opened the side door. When he walked in he found Negan leaning against a work bench, smoking a cigarette as the pile of clothes burned in front of him. 

Coughing and waving the smoke from his face, Carl approached Negan as he threw his cigarette into the flames. 

“Isn’t there a better place for you do to this?”

Negan lifted his eyebrows, “You wanna bring this shit show home? Maybe your Dad can help you get rid of it?”

Glaring at him unimpressed, Carl handed the camera to him, “You might find this entertaining.”

Reaching out, Negan turned on the camera and began to watch. Carl studied him carefully, with a small smile tucked at the corner of his mouth. Negan’s eyebrows raised with interest and shielded mirth. He seemed to enjoy it as much as Carl expected. 

Crossing his arms, Carl added, “Just keep watching.”

Negan’s face soon fell and he scratched his brow, “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that needs to be fucking obliterated.”

“Make sure you take out the memory card first, before  _ smashing _ the camera. Beat the shit out of it and set it on fire.”

“Man,” Negan smiled amused as he tossed it on the work bench behind him, “You’re  _ that _ paranoid, huh?”

“You’re not the one-”

“Fuck you,” Negan interrupted with a smile, “Did you see my dick all over your ass? I think I’m a  _ little _ implicated in that fucking situation.”

Carl tried to hide his smile. He remembered Negan’s dick over his ass all too well. 

“We’ll get to that in a bit,” Negan tilted his head indicating the camera. “What do you think of taking a little field trip to the college campus in a few weeks?”

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Carl asked, “Um, why?”

Negan handed him a crumpled piece of paper. “That’s our _ To-Do _ list. Three of the men on that list work at the college. Now, I don’t want to go break down each of their doors when it would be fairly fuckin’ easy to drop by their offices with a plausible reason to visit. All we have here is a list, no proof.” Negan grabbed it from his hand and threw it in the fire, “I don’t think for a goddamn second any of these fuckers are innocent, but I know your precious ass isn’t going to be satisfied on words alone. Give me some credit here, arranging a field trip is a damn good cover.”

Carl smiled. He had to admit, Negan was right, “Yeah, okay.” 

Scratching his cheek, Negan added, “That means I’m going to have to submit the paperwork and get some other chaperones. We’ve done it before, it’s an overnight thing. Kids stay in the dorms and get to experience the whole college scene.”

“Wait, you want-” Carl shook his head, “You mean a  _ real _ field trip? Like, with other kids?”

Scoffing, Negan answered, “You bet your sweet fuckin’ ass. Look, you and I can do the roleplaying thing again, pretend I’m your  _ other _ kind of Daddy taking you to check everything out, but some of the people working on campus know me and we’ll have longer access to shit if we do this the right way.”

Crossing his arms, Carl said, “I don’t know, Negan. That’s pretty risky. I mean, after last night-”

“Last night was a fuckin’ disaster but  _ we’re _ fine. Someone at the station doesn’t know how to keep their goddamn mouth shut because it’s already all over social media that Paul had a kiddie porno ring operating out of the basement. People are speculating that a victim’s Dad found out about it and are saying the motherfucker got what he deserved. Which isn’t true because that fucker deserved a hell of a lot worse than what he got.” 

Carl scratched his forehead and sighed in thought, “I should probably get home. See if my dad is around. Figure out what they know.”

Negan took a step closer to him, “They’re not going to trace it back to us. Just, relax. Are you going to be able to play it cool around Rick?”

Looking away from him, Carl didn’t know the answer. He’d never had to deal with Rick talking about the others. It wasn’t like his dad brought his work home, but with how public this was already turning into, it could be an impossible subject to avoid. 

His stomach was uneasy, churning in anticipation of deflecting those conversations. 

“Carl,” Negan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. 

Shaking him off, Carl replied annoyed, “I’m  _ fine _ .” He ran his fingers through his hair, realizing he didn’t have a bandage on. “Goddamn it,” he turned to walk back toward the house. “I’ll be  _ fine _ ,” he assured Negan before leaving the garage.

* * *

Carl walked home a few hours later. He wanted the time to clear his head and Negan only fucked with that.

Everything with Paul had been an entire goddamn mess. Carl didn’t like the plan to begin with but being the one to kill him was sitting uneasy on his chest. He didn’t  _ know _ if he had landed the fatal blow, maybe Negan had been the one to do it after all. But Carl forced his foot into the grave at the very least. 

At the time his mind had been so clear. Paul had attacked Negan. Carl knew what it was like to be attacked and he wasn’t going to be a victim again. There wasn’t a single thought in his head except to keep throwing punches. 

And he didn’t give a shit that Paul was dead. When he thought about the hell he had put so many kids through, Carl felt extreme satisfaction that they finally stopped that. Those kids would be free of him.

Free of  _ Paul _ at least. 

The list of names he’d seen hadn’t been very long. Easy enough to memorize. But he had to wonder how many more names were elevated higher in the hierarchy than those men? Did it end there or were there others?

He had a sinking feeling that it was just the beginning. 


	16. Chapter 16

“I thought you were going to be gone all weekend?” Lori asked as Carl walked through the door.

“Got bored. Just wanted to come home,” he replied, dropping his backpack on the top of the table. “Is Dad home?”

“Is he ever?” Lori huffed as she flipped through the newspaper on the counter.

“Can you give me a ride to the station? He wanted to hang out this weekend.”

“Didn't you hear about the fire? He’s probably pretty swamped, Carl. I don’t think now’s a good time.”

“What fire?” Carl asked tentatively.

“There was a real big fire across town. At that gym, the one with private trainers.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carl asked carefully, “Did anyone get hurt?”

“I haven’t heard the details. I’m sure your father can fill you in.”

Carl scratched his arm, “So, can you give me a ride or am I walking?”

“Give him a call first. If he says it’s okay I’ll take you down there after Judith wakes up from her nap.”

Taking a deep breath, Carl turned and walked into the living room. He opened the gallery of his phone and scrolled through until he found the picture of Negan. It wasn’t as good as what he’d seen on the camera, but it still made his stomach jump. He looked at it briefly before closing it.

Changing apps, he found his Dad’s name and called his cell phone.

It rang several times but just before Carl was going to give up Rick answered, “Carl? Is something wrong?”

“What?” Carl sat on the couch hard. “No, I just,” he shook his head, sighing to steel his nerves, “I’m back home now and wanted to know when you’d be back. Did you still want to play pool?”

He heard Rick exhale hard and talk to someone in the background, “Today isn’t good, Carl.”

“Mom said there was a fire. Did anyone get hurt?”

Carl could hear the weariness in his voice as he replied, “Yeah. I shouldn’t say anything but it’s out there now. It’s a pretty messed up situation here.”

“Dad, you know, it’s okay that you’re busy. I get it.” Shaking his head, Carl knew what he was about to do was shitty but he took a deep breath and said quickly, “It’s just, you said you wanted to spend more time together and I decided to come home early. I thought you said you’d be here?” He didn’t want to guilt trip Rick but he figured it was the quickest way to get what he wanted.

He listened intently as Rick let out a breath, “Why don’t you come by the station. It won’t be pool but you can help me sort through some paperwork.”

Smiling to himself, only slightly proud of his manipulative tactic, Carl replied, “Be there in a little bit, Dad.”

* * *

Lori dropped him off about an hour later. When he walked in, the familiar building seemed far less relaxed than usual. Officers were buzzing around, nearly jogging from one room to the next. The phones rang shrill and loud then answered with snappy retorts before being slammed back into place.

Carl smiled to himself. He didn’t intend to create this kind of stress for his dad, but a dark part of him, deep in his stomach, rumbled with appreciation for everything he’d set in motion. Here was the evidence of his impact on the world.

He shuffled into Rick’s office and walked around behind his desk. His dad wasn’t in there. Yet. He could be at any minute. Carl sat in his chair and scrolled through the screen of his computer.

Paul’s police report was pulled up. The same as what Carl had printed from before. Glancing through, he read quickly to find that nothing had been changed.

“Carl,” Rick spoke suddenly. His voice was tired.

As he lifted his head from the screen, Carl genuinely felt remorse for, at the very least, adding more stress to his father’s life. He swiveled back and forth in the chair as he asked innocently, “Is this the guy that did it?” His heart raced and he was glad his voice held strong.

“What?” Rick walked over and looked at the screen. “No,” he sighed, “I shouldn’t tell you but you’ll hear soon enough anyway. He’s the victim. We're still trying to contact family.”

“So what happened?” Carl asked casually as he continued to search through the page.

“Carl,” Rick warned.

Carl lifted his hand from the mouse, and offered them up in the air cautiously. But he didn’t move from the chair.

Rick walked around, sitting on the corner of the desk he said, “Don’t speak a word of this to anyone, okay? You shouldn’t even be in my office right now.”

“Yeah, and _who_ do you think I’d even tell?” He replied sarcastically, swiveling side to side.

“Your little _friend_ for one.”

Carl stopped spinning the chair. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and ignored the burning creeping high on his cheeks.

“Speaking of, why’d you come home early anyway? Everything okay?” Rick asked.

Shrugging, he answered, “I dunno. You said you wanted to play pool. You guilted me into it.” He attempted a weak teasing smile but felt the corners of his mouth falter in the attempt. “So, what happened anyway?” He tried to deflect.

Rick took his hat off and played with it in his lap, “Yeah, okay _Clarice._ I see you changing subjects. Is that how we’re gonna play this? The only way I can get my son to open up to me is with some ‘quid pro quo’?” Laughing, he leaned over and dropped the hat on top of Carl’s head.

“How’s it look?” Carl asked, smiling genuinely.

“Looks great,” Rick smiled back.

Leaving it on, Carl leaned back in the chair, finally feeling at ease. That stupid hat had unexpectedly cloaked over him a blanket of comfort. Only slightly too big, but it was large enough to make him feel protected. Safe. Like he could hide away and no one would know who the person under the brim really was.

“You should keep it,” Rick added honestly.

“Don’t _you_ need it? How would we all recognize the sheriff?” He teased.

“It’s probably time I ordered a new one anyway. Besides, you always wanted to be a cowboy right?”

“Ha ha,” Carl said only halfway sarcastic, though he smiled at his dad’s offer.

There was a strong feeling urging him to keep that hat. It was something he’d grown up seeing his dad wear every day. His heart warmed at the thought of Rick giving it to him. He didn’t particularly _like_ the style of it, but something so integral to who is father was, the significance he had in their town, and Rick wanted to pass that down to him? Carl wouldn’t refuse that gift.

“Are you actually serious?” Carl eventually asked.

“Yeah,” Rick crossed his arms and studied him closely. “Looks good on you, Carl.”

Carl leaned his head back. Tipping the brim down, covering his face, he breathed into it calmly. Then he adjusted it and smiled honestly, “Thanks Dad.”

“So, what’s his name?” Rick grinned deviously.

Carl scoffed, “Are you trying to bribe me with a worn, sweaty, old cowboy hat?”

“No, that’s yours now, Carl. You don’t have to give me anything for it, but it would be _nice_ for you to open up for a change.”

Smiling softly, Carl finally admitted, “He’s a good guy, Dad. You don’t have to worry.”

“I will always worry. Especially after last night.”

“Yeah, so what happened anyway?” He asked.

“I asked first. What’s his name?”

Carl sighed. As his face began to turn red, he swiveled the chair away, turning it so he didn’t have to face his father.

“He’s a friend of Trevor’s.”

“And his name is-” Rick added pointedly.

“Nick,” Carl blurted quickly. Too quickly, but he didn’t think his dad would notice. “Now it’s your turn, what happened last night?”

“Nick, huh. Does Nick have a last name?”

“No, Dad,” he joked, “He’s full out Madonna. Or _Prince_ might be a better comparison.”

“Alright,” Rick finally conceded. He scratched the short beard growing in on his face, “Last night there was a murder at the gym across town.”

“A murder?” Carl sat up straight trying his best to convey feigned concern. “Was it a drug deal or something?”

“Could have been,” Rick admitted casually as he shrugged. “Alright, it’s my turn. Tell me about Nick. What’s he like?”

Rolling his eye, Carl thought for a moment. He’d never considered exactly what Negan was _like_.

He was an asshole. He was charismatic as hell, but he was an asshole. Carl didn’t know how else to describe him. Taking a deep breath, he admitted, “He’s confident. He knows what he wants out of life. We have the same things in common.”

“Which would be?” Rick interrupted.

“I don’t know. Hanging out? Watching movies?” _Committing heinous acts of murder._

“Alright,” Rick gave up, “But he goes to your school?”

“Um,” Carl had to think for a minute. Negan sure as hell _was_ at his school, that’s for damn sure. Thinking it over, Carl decided to say, “Yeah, but I only have gym with him. I never really talked to him before this year.” Sighing, Carl asked, “So how’d the guy get killed?”

“Well,” Rick nodded and scratched his fingers through his hair, flattened from the wear of his hat, “The fire got to him pretty quick. Probably happened in the room with him. We’re waiting on forensics and the report from the examiner to be sure.” Carl could tell Rick was holding back.

“What do _you_ think happened?”

Rick looked at him steady. The intense gaze made Carl’s skin crawl with nerves, like Rick could see the manifestation of his guilt. Like he had the omniscient power to know the person who  _really_ had all the answers was sitting right in front of him.

“Carl, I _really_ shouldn’t be telling you this stuff.”

“Oh, come on, Dad! I’m _not_ going to tell anyone, I promise! I can keep secrets.”

“Yeah? Well, tell me more about Nick.”

Sighing, Carl understood what Rick was playing at, “I don’t know. We hang out and watch old TV shows. He goes to Negan’s for the game nights. He’s kind of an asshole, to be honest.” Carl shrugged. After seeing immediate concern flash in Rick’s eyes, he added quickly, “No, I mean, he’s a _good_ guy, Dad. Honestly. He just has his own sense of humor and it takes a while to see it’s just a wall he builds around himself. But once you know who he really is,” Carl couldn’t help the small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, “you can appreciate it. He is _so_ good at calling out bullshit. And Dad, he’s helped me _so_ much this year. He doesn’t let me wallow when I get upset. He makes me confront my issues if I think things are getting too difficult. When I’m ready to give up he’s there to push me. Make sure I kept going. You should see my aim with darts.” Shrugging, he added sheepishly, “And he actually _likes_ my eye. Or,” he sighed reluctantly, “At least he doesn’t mind it.”

Rick crossed his arms nervously. Carl knew it always upset him when he brought up his injury. Rick felt guilty for being unable to stop it and for bringing him to the shooting range in the first place.

“He sounds real nice, Carl.”

Carl tried to hide his smile but it broke free, “He is, Dad. He’s really been there for me when I felt like I didn’t have anyone.”

Rick sat up straight, opening his mouth to speak.

Carl interrupted, “I know I always have you and Mom. But I mean, someone, you know, as a _friend_. Someone who understands what it’s like being a high school senior with limited options for the future.”

“Carl,” Rick shrugged. “You can still do _anything_ you want. Have you thought about college at all?”

“Actually, the gym teachers are organizing a field trip to the university. I’m not sure when, but I was hoping you’d be cool with me going? It’s overnight so they’ll need you to sign paperwork.”

“Hell Carl, that’s a great idea,” Rick smiled. “Do they need any chaperones?”

“No,” Carl said quickly. “And I think you’ll be a little busy. So my turn now. What do _you_ think happened with the fire? Honestly? Without lying. I’ve been honest with you.”

Rick laughed softly, “Yeah, okay. You do not tell your mother I told you about this.”

“Yeah, okay Dad.”

“When we got there, there really wasn’t much left of him. The sprinklers saved most of the upstairs but the downstairs, where the fire started, it was destroyed. The guy was on the floor, melted and charred, but still there. Well, his _body_ was there. His head-” Rick shook his own.

“What Dad?” Carl asked carefully.

Rick sighed, “The town’s going to be gossiping about this for a while. That’s the only reason why I’m telling you now. You’re gonna hear it later anyway and you might as well have most of the facts to set people straight.” Looking away from Carl, he focused on something across the room.

Carl glanced over to a pile of tapes and memory cards realizing instantly that Negan was right and they'd found what they needed to prove the kind of person he was.

“His head was smashed in. Looked like someone went at him with a ton of bricks. Pretty much unrecognizable. We’re waiting on DNA but everyone is sure it’s him.”

“Wow,” Carl nodded calmly at the admission. “Any suspects? Were there cameras anywhere?”

“No cameras. But, let’s just say we have a few leads.” Rick turned to Carl, “So, when do we get to meet him?”

“Never, Dad,” Carl huffed in confident amusement.

Smiling Rick admitted, “Well, it was worth a shot.”

Leaning back in the chair, Carl pulled the hat over his face, blocking out the fluorescent glare. He smiled to himself, thinking about how he’d gotten away with telling Rick about Negan.

He stayed at the station a while longer. Soon Rick became inundated with officers and specialists running in and out of his office. He wasn’t able to give Carl his full attention, which suited him just fine.

Carl could have walked home but he felt it better to stay. He’d be able to listen in on the conversations and make sure they hadn’t left any incriminating evidence behind. He was on edge the entire time, just waiting for someone to point at him and tell him they knew he was a murderer.

And this time he was.

Though he tried not to dwell, with each aching flex of his fist Carl’s mind drifted back to his frenzied attack on Paul. The very idea that perhaps Carl had really been the one to finally end his life set his stomach on edge. He didn’t regret that he was dead. Negan was right, he deserved far worse than what he got. But to think that the vengeance upon him was wrought by Carl’s own hands? Hands that betrayed his innocent disguise with evidence of bruised and bloody knuckles. Something inside Carl felt uneasy about it. It wasn’t guilt but it was something. He pushed the thought aside. He could contemplate the moralities of man a different day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story for so long! And I'm sorry it's taken me longer than normal to post. And also sorry it's so short. I debated making it part of the next chapter but I'm not done writing it yet and thought I'd at least post this! 
> 
> Up next: Field Trip Shenanigans!


	17. Chapter 17

Closing his eye, Carl sat in the middle of the bus, alone, trying to ignore the shrieking cacophony of his classmates surrounding him. Negan had been able to streamline the request for the field trip and pulled some strings at the college which allowed them to go sooner than he’d anticipated. Admittedly he’d been sleeping the last time he'd made the trip, but Carl noted the drive in a bus with screaming students took much longer than in Negan’s truck.

The constant reminder around him made him ache to be alone with Negan.

Both had decided to keep some distance since the incident with Paul didn’t go as planned. Reluctantly, Carl did have to agree. Especially when he had to come home to Rick’s rundown of the case every night. He didn’t talk about it often but Carl could read between the lines. He listened when Rick received calls and remained attentive when his dad tiredly spoke his orders back to the department.

From what Carl could gather they were targeting parents of the victims. Most hadn’t known what horrible things had taken place in that training center until the fire. Carl felt bad that the families were in pain learning of the abuse of their children, but it only solidified his resolve that getting rid of Paul was an improvement to the world.

For now, he just closed his eye and tried to focus on his music, cranked loud, blaring over his fellow classmates. He held his eye closed tight because his restraint to watch Negan was wavering.

Negan was at the front of the bus, talking to a group of girls. Though Carl made an attempt to swallow down his jealous, it mostly died in vain with every toothy grin Negan flashed towards them. After watching the video of himself with Negan he no longer had the confidence to hide his attraction, so he figured closing his eye and forgetting everything was his best option.

When he felt a firm bump into his leg, he finally opened his eye in confusion, assuming Negan wanted to talk to him. He was surprised to see one of his classmates sliding into the seat next to him.

“So, what’s your deal, anyway?”

“What?” Carl asked, clearing his throat and pulling his headphones away.

“We’re sharing a room,” the kid he knew as Austin stated simply.

“Uh, yeah,” Carl replied.

“Right so, I don’t really know you. You could be some psycho murderer or,” he smirked, “a _brony._ ”

Carl fought the urge to smile. Instead he scoffed and turned to look out the window, “Did they dare you to come talk to me or something?”

Austin laughed, “Dude. Just chill, okay?”

Carl turned to study him. He had shaggy brown hair and blue eyes, and as far as Carl could tell he was sincere.

“Why don’t you come hang in the back with us?”

Chancing a glance behind them, he turned back to Austin, “I think I’m good here.” He shrugged, “Thanks, though.”

“Look man, you sit on the sidelines all the time during gym. No one has seen you say more than two words. Just come back and talk to some of us.”

Sighing, he looked back again and reluctantly nodded. As he stood to follow Austin, he looked quickly to the front of the bus where Negan was staring at him intently. Carl shrugged and maneuvered to a seat in the back next to Austin.

There were several other students around them. Mostly boys but a few girls decide to join the tour. It was abrasively loud and Carl was regretting agreeing to join them nearly instantly.

One of his classmates with long, dirty blond hair stood behind him. Leaning over the seat, staring down at Carl, he said, “Hey! Now that you’re back here, we should just get this out of the way-”

Cringing internally, Carl waited for the inevitable taunting or never ending questions. The stares he had become reluctantly accustomed to but he hated when people would question him directly if it was going to be asinine on the cusp of taunting. 

The kid continued, “Obviously, it’s a huge fuckin’ elephant in the bus that no one else here has the balls to ask, so I’ll do it.” Pushing himself up from his leaning position, he continued, “What the hell have you been listening to this whole time? Is it a podcast or are you a Kendrick Lamar man?”

Relieved, Carl smiled genuinely and shook his head, “Just a shitty mix I threw together that’s needed an update for years.”

“Right on, right on,” he continued. “Oh yeah, and also you only have one eye.”

Clenching his jaw, Carl spoke through his teeth sarcastically, “Really? I wasn't aware.”

“Nah, don’t be like that,” the kid teased back. “Just wanted to get it out of the way. What’s the most annoying question you get asked about it?”

Carl was taken aback by his relaxed demeanor. He didn’t seem to be mocking him or morbidly curious. Only generally interested. As he turned away, he thought for a moment before saying, “It’s not really the questions. It’s more the attitude that comes with it. Abrasive. A bit demanding. People think I owe them an explanation.”

The kid laughed, leaning back, “Shit man, okay. I can take a hint!”

“No, I didn’t mean,” Carl shook his head smiling, “Not you. Honestly, people are either trying to hide their stares which is annoying as hell, or they’re coming up to me, wanting to know the full story and asking to see it.”

Austin chimed in, “So, what _is_ the full story?”

“And can we see it?” The blond added quickly with a laugh.

Carl smiled, fighting to hold back a laugh despite wanting to be angry with them. “Gun accident,” he admitted. “And no,” he said to the other.  
  
A moment of quiet passed before the kid shrugged and said, “Fair enough, man. So, seriously though, what have you been listening to this whole time?”

Smiling to himself, Carl continued to talk to the boys. The blond, he soon found, was named Matt. He had gym in a different period than Carl but he’d seen him around the school before.

The drive seemed to go much faster once he joined the others in the back. They included him every once in a while, but mostly were involved in their own conversations. Carl knew he should have been trying harder but it was so damn hard to relate to them. They were there only on a field trip to tour a college campus. They were there to try to figure out their futures.

 _He_ was there to end someone’s future.

The aspiration of higher education hadn’t really passed his mind.

Now, though, the thought of it was a constant buzz while he listened to their stories and gossip of other classmates. He’d never fit in with them again, but he realized it was okay. He was on a mission and it was undoubtedly more important than the intricate stories of his high school classmates. He tuned out much of the conversation until he heard Negan’s name.

Carl perked up and tried to figure out what he’d missed.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” A dark hair student asked.

“Have you gone? He’s alright. Everything is in the garage. It’s not like he’s inviting kids into his house,” another replied. He was wearing a dark hoodie and had bright blue eyes. Carl had to admit he looked familiar when he remembered his name was Josh.

Just then, he turn towards Carl and asked, “What do you think? I’ve seen you there before. Creepy and weird as hell?”

Glancing to the front of the bus, he looked to Negan who was lounging the most he could in the small seat. Carl could see his profile as he turned to the side to talk to another teacher who was to be a chaperone for the girls.

Carl shrugged, “I dunno. I don’t think he’s _creepy_. He helped me with a lot of physical therapy outside of class.”

Matt laughed suggestively, “Physical therapy, huh? I know Emily Olson wouldn’t mind a little _physical therapy_ with Negan. Surprised she doesn’t shoot her eye out for some _therapy._ ”

Carl tensed and waited for him to continue and mock him, but he didn’t.

Austin spoke up, “I don’t get it. All the girls like him. I mean, he’s cool and all. I like how laidback he is. But I know a few of the girls only came for the chance to have a _sleepover_ with Negan. I don’t know what they think is going to happen. That they’ll sneak in his room at night and suddenly fuck him and it’ll be fine because they’re not at school? Doesn’t make sense.”

“He’s totally fucking Ms. Henderson, the art teacher. I used to see him _come_ by right before her free period last semester. Ms. Henderson is hot. If you can have _that_ , why in the hell would you take a second look at Emily fucking Olson?”

Trying to slow his breathing and force down the blush rising in his cheeks, Carl continued to listen to the gossip. It soon moved away from Negan and onto other classmates, which Carl was very grateful for. But Carl’s gaze had been steadfast on Negan the entire time. Watching his broad shoulders stretch his shirt when he moved to reach between the aisle. The way his eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide enough to show his dimples. Carl definitely understood what those girls saw in him but it did make him wonder if Negan ever looked back at the girls.

Though it took an inordinate amount of time, Negan had damn well looked back at Carl.

But Carl had to admit, the extenuating circumstances that lead up to it had been far more significant than simply throwing flirting smiles his direction. Hunting and murdering together seemed to be quite the bonding activity.

When the conversation around him continued to jump to other topics, Carl thought it safe to get lost in thought once more. Crossing his arms on his chest, he slouched down and contemplated again their plan for the weekend.

* * *

When the bus finally arrived at the campus, the sky was blue and clear and it was still early enough in the morning for Carl to feel the crisp bite of the air. Once shuffled from the bus, he grabbed his duffle bag and followed the rest of the students to the dorms they’d been assigned to for the weekend. It was a co-ed building with each level split between guys and girls. Carl watched as one of the female gym teachers lead the girls to their floor while he followed sheepishly behind Negan, being sure to keep his distance.

They reached a common room where Negan read off their room numbers and a brief list of rules, which Carl tried his best not to smirk at. He stood at the back of the group and looked over the signs posted on the bulletin board. An array of club meetings and volunteer opportunities mixed in next to a familiar face. His stomach dropped as he saw that smug smile staring back at him. It looked like a Senior photo of Bryce. Paying closer attention, Carl looked around the room and saw more of them posted. Missing posters with contact information. He knew he should feel bad. Or at the very least nervous. But the only feeling settling into his broken soul was resolute gratification.  

When he returned his gaze back to Negan, he offered a small knowing smile. Negan clearly knew what he was thinking but he didn’t allow his facade to fall. He continued his speech, obvious in the way that it was just numb recitation of hollow words.

“Basically, just don’t be a dumbass and I won’t have to provide disciplinary action when we get back. You’re almost adults. Act like it so my job is easier, alright?” He concluded.

After they were given the itenary for the weekend he found he and Austin had conveniently been placed in the room closest to Negan. Negan’s, of course, was larger than the others from what Carl could see as he peered curiously through the door after they were dismissed. When he turned his head around he saw Negan looking at him from the common room. A studying glance that made Carl’s stomach jump. With a sudden rush of bravado, Carl smiled deviously back at him, suggesting with fire in his eye exactly what he’d like to do in that room.  

Shaking his head and lifting his eyebrows, Negan turned back toward the students in front of him trying to answer their questions. But Carl noticed he left a slight smile on the corner of his lips.

When bags were put in the rooms, the group of boys trailed to the lobby of the main floor to meet up with the rest of their classmates. Carl continued to keep a respectable distance from Negan, the best he could anyway.

He found it to be easier than he’d anticipated. Austin was always at his side, asking him questions and trying to pull him into conversations. Carl was actually surprised to find himself engaging in conversation. It wasn’t difficult to talk to him and, while his initial introduction had been an intrusion, Carl was soon becoming grateful for the distraction. He and Negan wouldn’t be able to speak until late that evening, if at all, which meant he had a full day to bullshit through.

Their plan was to meet with the highest authority on the list of names Paul had given up. Negan had arranged a private meeting but it wouldn’t be until the next evening. So the distraction of Austin was welcome while Carl couldn’t help but be annoyed that he had to actually go through with the college tour.

The group walked slowly around campus. Carl could barely focus on the tour guide’s falsely enthusiastic voice, but he tried. As they approached the science building, Austin elbowed him and leaned in close. In a hushed voice, he spoke, “A few of us are ditching out tonight. You in?”

Carl pulled himself away to catch Negan’s eyes on him. Turning his back to him, Carl asked, “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“One of the girls has an older sister going to school here and they invited some of us to a party. Never been to a college party before, have you?” Austin teased, nudging him playfully.

Laughing dryly, he replied, “You’d be surprised.” The memory of being on campus jumped through his thoughts with flashes of Negan swinging his bat.

Austin studied him curiously with a small smile, but didn’t question him further.

Negan held the door open as students filed into a large auditorium. Carl glanced up at him as he passed but Negan ignored him. Even though they’d agreed on keeping their distance, it still hurt. Especially when Negan turned his smile on the girls behind him. _Emily Olson_ and her friends. Carl fought back the urge to roll his eye as he listened to them ask Negan questions about the trip. Ask him questions about his _room_.

“We heard the corner rooms are bigger, and you have a corner room, right?”

Negan replied, “Perks of being a teacher. About the only damn one.”

“Are there two beds in there like the others?” One of the girls asked feigning innocence.

“I think you could fit four if you bunk them, if the school needs to squeeze more money out of your parents,” Negan said with what Carl recognized was his most knowingly innocent tone, avoiding what the girls were trying to imply.

One of the girls giggled which irritated Carl instantly. With a racing heart, he tried to slow his breathing. Negan hadn’t even said anything suggestive, at least not for _him._ Carl’s mind flashed back to the words he heard when he’d last been alone with him.

_You stick anything up that virgin ass of yours yet?_

It made him shiver, thinking back on it. At the time, no, he hadn’t tried much. But after leaving Negan’s house he started to test it out. There was a craving, insistent and recklessly urging him to do whatever the hell it took to get Negan back inside him. A finger? Great. But what he really wanted was his dick. Carl knew he was wearing Negan down and it would only be a matter of time and he wanted to be ready.

He’d finally gotten the courage to trace his fingers over his body. He liked to do in the shower where he could close his eyes and remember how it felt when Negan was in control. It was easier to push the memory of his first attack out of his mind that way. Carl soon learned how to get off with the right movements. With more than one goal in mind, he learned his body more thoroughly and wouldn’t feel as intimidated the next time he’d be able to tempt Negan.

And there _would_ be a next time.

Soon.

Austin bumped his shoulder with a smile, pulling Carl back to the conversation behind them. Austin turned back to the girls and asked, “Hey, do you want us to grab you something at the vending machines, Emily? You seem pretty _thirsty_.”

“Shut up, Austin,” the girl answered in disgust with pink rising quickly and settling across her cheeks.

Carl noted she fell back in line with her friends and didn’t try to ask Negan any more question which made him oddly relieved.  

“She wants a good dicking from Negan. So fucking obvious. She could at least give subtly a shot.” Scoffing, Austin said hushed.

Amused, Carl asked quietly, “And how exactly would someone flirt _subtly_ with Negan? There are many words you could use to describe Negan, but I don't think ‘values and appreciates subtlety’ is in the mix.”

Austin smiled, “Nah, a man like Negan you don’t want to be too subtle but you gotta give him something to work with. Give him the baby bird act and have him swoop in and save you. But it has to be authentic. His bullshit radar is fine tuned.”

Narrowing his eye, Carl asks, “What are you, a professional?”

Smiling wide, he shrugged confidently, “Just observant.” Austin lead them further into the lecture hall and picked an empty spot near the back.

Carl was surprised he didn’t join his friends from earlier and he wasn’t quite sure why he was following suit. There was a seat open next to Negan. More students gathered, it wouldn’t look out of place to sit there. Fighting the urge, he turned to Austin as they sat down.

“So, are you _observant_ with everyone? Or just Negan?” Carl tried to tease.

“Everyone. You kind of have to _know_ how to subtly pick up the signs, you know?”

“Signs for what?” Carl asked sincerely confused.

Austin’s eyes went wide and his eyebrows lifted, “Oh, shit.” Looking away sheepishly, he took a moment to breathe before saying, “I thought you knew, man. I’m gay. Hope you’re cool with it.”

Furrowing his brow, Carl asked, “Why would I care?”

“We’re sharing a room tonight. I couldn’t get anyone else to room with me. Most of the guys are accepting enough, you know, but they don’t want to sleep near me. Since we ended up together I just assumed you knew and were fine with it.”

Carl laughed quietly to himself. When he looked up, Austin appeared to be nervous. “No, it’s okay,” Carl nodded assuring him. “I’m fine with it.  _You_ got stuck with the one-eyed-freak, so I guess we both got screwed over here, right?”

Austin laughed, calming immediately. “Speaking of screwed. Getting fucked is something I could definitely go for while we’re here,” he admitted. His eyes went wide as Carl lifted his eyebrow at the suggestion. “I didn’t mean-” Austin stammered awkwardly, “I didn’t mean you and me! Just, you know, that party tonight.”

Carl smiled at the blush that rose in his face. He had to admit he was a good looking kid. Tall, lithe, messy mop of hair on top of his head. Carl could see himself running his fingers through it. Shaking his head and smiling wryly, Carl soothed, “Calm down. The cyclops isn’t as intimidating as he looks.”

Austin laughed. A genuine laugh that lit his bright blue eyes above his smile. Shaking his head, as if he changed his mind, Austin said, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you knew. I’ve been out for a while so I didn’t think there was anyone left to tell.”

“I’ve been a little isolated this year,” Carl shrugged.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“You have?” Carl raised a brow.

Austin shrugged, “I notice all the hot guys.”

It was Carl’s turn to look away in embarrassment. As far as field trips went, this one was full of unexpected surprises.

“Sorry,” he shook his head. “I’m not hitting on you, really. I’m sorry. Don’t change rooms.”

“Yeah, I dunno. I don’t want to catch The Gay.” Carl smiled, “Maybe I could bunk with Negan?” It was a ballsy joke but he couldn’t help himself.

Austin laughed nervously, “Bring Emily with you, she’d love that.” Clearing his throat, he added, “I wouldn’t consider yourself safe bunking with him either, though.”

Fighting a smile he asked, “What, so you think _he’s_ gay? Is everyone gay now?”

“No, I-” he started. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “I think he’s more adventurous and not as repressed as most men his age, though.”

“Does everyone know this? Is this something I should have known?”

“No,” Austin shrugs. “Just the ones who know how to look for the signs. And like I said before, a little subtlety, suggestive but not throwing yourself at him, would probably go a lot farther than a 16 year old girl barely out of her training bra batting her eyes in his direction.”

“Ah,” Carl smirked and looked down, trying to hide his face, “You’re jealous of Emily and want him all to yourself, is that it?”

Laughing, Austin said, “Hell, if it’s _his_ dick that’s out, I’d take a ride from him any day. I see the appeal.” Shaking his head he added, “He’s not exactly my type, though.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carl asked calmly. “What’s your type then?” He didn’t know why he asked. In all honesty, he didn’t care, but it felt nice to have a normal conversation for once. Putting in an effort of having someone to talk to at school might not be the worst investment of time. Lifting his eye to meet Austin’s, Carl couldn’t help but return the smile he found in front of him.

Austin waited a moment before shrugging and turning away. With a small smile still at the corner of his lips he spoke quietly, “Let’s just say I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now but didn’t have the balls without an excuse.”

Lifting his eyebrows in genuine surprise, Carl turned away from him. He took a moment to think then turned back, “So you _were_ hitting on me?”

Before Austin had a chance to reply, the lights dimmed in the auditorium. One of the tour guides walked to the front of the class and began to give them a formal introduction to their weekend and what was planned.

Carl could feel Austin stealing glances at him throughout the presentation trying to suss out Carl’s feelings about being hit on by him. He found it flattering but was skeptical of Austin’s sincerity. Though, it was hard to concentrate on anything he was doing when Carl had a perfect view of Negan.

His leg was crossed in front of him as he leaned back casually. With his arms folded, he had a very intense look of concentration. Too intense to be listening to the tour guide at the front of the room. As if on cue, Negan turned. He found Carl immediately. Something cold ran down Carl’s spine from the look piercing back at him from Negan.

The frivolous chatter around him suddenly fell away. Carl’s stomach sank as he remembered why they were there. It was nice to make a friend in Austin but the fiery passion of purpose burned deep and the intense gaze of Negan reminded him that he needed to be following the plan.

* * *

From classrooms to hallways to offices, the tour continued without incident. At lunch, Carl loaded up a tray and found a place to sit with Austin trailing close behind. Before he had a chance to enjoy his meal, Negan called him over to where he was standing off to the side of the cafeteria.

Calming his racing heart it would be the first time they’d spoken all day, Carl shoved his hands in his pocket and walked over with intention.

“Come to my room tonight. We have shit to go over,” Negan spoke softly, looking past Carl though clearly addressing him.

Smiling smugly, Carl nodded, “Sure thing, Coach.”

Lifting his eyebrows in annoyance, Negan met Carl’s eye, “Really? Giving me the cocky attitude now?”

Leaning in, Carl whispered, “I’m not even going to make a dick joke because it’s too easy. Rest assured, you can enjoy more of my _cocky attitude_ tonight.”

“Yeah, okay Casanova,” he rolled his eyes. Negan continued, “What the hell is up with you and Austin over there?”

Carl fought to hide his pleased smile. The knowledge of Negan’s jealousy warmed deep in his stomach. He tucked the information away for later when he answered, “He’s got a crush on you. Wants to ride your dick. Emily too.”

“Tell me something I don’t fucking know,” Negan replied annoyed, “Wait, Austin’s gay? I guess that _is_ something I don’t know.”

“Apparently _everyone_ knows.”

“You kids have it so fuckin’ easy. Jesus Christ, in my day you tell people you suck dick and you were literally drawn and quartered. Not that that shit doesn’t still happen, but goddamn it you’d never see anyone admit it back then like you do now. Good for him for having the balls to be out.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why he’s my roommate. Apparently he’s still a freak and he has to stay with the other freak.”

Negan smiled knowingly back at Carl, “You _definitely_ have a bit of a freak in you.”

Carl blushed and turned away, “You want to cut the shit, Negan? You wouldn’t say that at school.”

Clearing his throat and crossing his arms, he replied, “Alright, Boy Scout. Just come by tonight so we can go over the rest of the shit.”

“Yes _sir_ ,” Carl said quietly allowing a small smile to play at the corner of his lips.

“Get the hell out of here,” Negan replied fondly.

Listening to his teacher, Carl turned and walked back to the table with Austin. He was able to finish his meal without glance back to Negan too many times, though it was a challenge.

The rest of the tour continued before they were allowed time to go back to the dorms. Carl was exhausted from being around so many people. He hadn’t had as many conversations the entire year as he had in this one day. It was nice, but tiring. They ate supper in a different, smaller cafeteria and Carl was beyond ready to retreat. He was relieved when they were finally dismissed to the dorms.

Crashing on the bed, Carl closed his eye and listened to the rough plastic of the mattress settle beneath him. It wasn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination but it was nice to be away from the commotion. Austin was on the other side of the small room adjusting his suitcase.

“So,” he spoke tentatively, “Like I was saying before, there’s that party on campus, you think you might want to go?”

“Oh,” Carl sat up. “That’s right, I forgot you mentioned it.” He was surprised to find that he _did_ actually want to go. Obviously, Negan’s room was a higher priority but if he didn’t have that he was glad that this new friendship with Austin was leading him toward normal activities again. “Um, well, the thing is,” he struggled to find an excuse. “Okay so,” he started again, not making eye contact.

“Look, if you don’t want to go, that’s fine. I’m not forcing you, here. Just thought it might be fun. You’re not going to narc on me for ditching, are you? I know you’re close with Negan.”

Carl laughed, “No, actually, I kind of have the same favor to ask. I was planning on meeting up with a -,” he paused, shaking his head, “a _friend._ So, I won’t be around for a few hours.”

“Oh shit,” Austin’s shoulder’s dropped in disappointment, “Do you have a girlfriend or something?”

He knew he didn’t owe Austin anything, but he felt bad for letting him down. “ _‘Or something,’_ you might say, I guess,” he replied awkwardly turning away.

“Nothing official?”

Carl laughed, “No. Definitely not.” Daring to look, he found Austin smiling back at him.

“Hmm, well, that’s good for me.”

“Is it?” Carl asked suspiciously through a smile.

“Yeah, remember those signs I was telling you about? Well, ‘or something’ isn’t a _girlfriend._ I got my eye on you, Grimes.”

“Is that a cylops joke?” Carl deadpanned. “Not cool, man.”

“Oh god, no! I’m sorry! I wasn’t- I didn’t mean-”

“I’m just screwin’ with you,” Carl laughed. “Go to your party. Have fun without me. I won’t narc on you if you don’t narc on me.”

Smiling wide, he said, “Thanks man.”

* * *

The hours leading up to visiting Negan were pure torture. With nothing to entertain himself but his music, he tried not to stare at the clock and watch minutes pass. He was unsuccessful in the endeavor and was relieved when it was finally late enough to sneak out.

The door to Negan's room groaned as Carl opened it slowly. Austin was still out and Carl knew it would be the only time he’d be able to see Negan alone like this. The fact that he knew Negan wanted him in the dorm room after dark sent chills through his spine.

Light from the outside street lamps filtered through the window, enough to make out Negan’s silhouette sitting on the bed. Turning around, Carl shut the door gently, the loud latch echoed through the room. Turning the lock swiftly, he padded carefully towards the bed.

He wasn’t entirely surprised to find Negan looking back at him but he was curious why he wasn’t berating him for letting himself in. Of course, Negan had asked him to come and could have locked his door if he really wanted to keep him out until he was ready. The silence of the room created an eerie ambiance. It made Carl feel powerful. Like there, in that room, in the dark of night, he could do anything. He could have anyone. And without Negan chiding him he was invincible.

The bed creaked loudly as Negan adjusted himself, angling towards him. Carl’s heart ached to see him displayed in front of him with each step he took until he stood directly in front of him. Everything he wanted and knew he shouldn’t have was looking back up at him. Before Negan had a chance to protest, Carl climbed into his lap, lifting each leg to straddle him.

His fingers scratched through Negan’s hair and met in a tender hold at the back of his head. Carl tried to calm his shaking nerves as he leaned forward and gently brushed his lips over Negan’s. Not enough to satisfy, but to remind Carl of what they had. He moved back slightly, breathing heavily over Negan’s mouth. With his stomach in knots, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in again and kissing gently. Closing his eye, he sighed in contentment as he felt Negan’s hand move up his back. Carl leaned in, now with intent, and pressed harder against that sinful mouth that had him so mesmerized. The burn of Negan’s beard was a constant and familiar reminder of who he was with. A welcomed sensation laced with pain.

Negan pushed him back gently. Carl felt the heat of his gaze, studying him intently.

Just as he was about to speak, Carl interrupted quietly, “Don’t start.”

That earns him a silent laugh from Negan, “What’s that?”

Sighing in defeat, Carl leans back. Shoulder slumping he whispers, “Tell me to stop? It’s too risky here.” He shivered as Negan’s hands ran up his back, slipping underneath his shirt.

“I think I _know_ how the hell risky it is,” Negan teases. “Fuck it, kid,” he moved swiftly and grabbing Carl by his shoulders, pushed him down on the mattress. Climbing on top, straddling his legs quickly, he adds, “Right now I don’t give a shit. We both know what the hell is going to happen tomorrow, but tonight? Tonight I plan on getting your dick so far down my throat you’ll be blushing every goddamn time you hear me speak tomorrow because you’ll know exactly how it got to be so hoarse.”

Moaning quietly, Carl shifted his hips up enough to allow Negan’s rough fingers work at the button of his jeans and slide them off. Voice quivering nervously, Carl asked, “What made you change your mind about this?”

Adjusting Carl on the bed to lay back, Negan’s hand ghosted over the erection under his boxers. “I told you kid, I’m done. You win.”

Carl gasped and clenched his eye closed as Negan’s strong grip wrapped around his cock.

“Everything you’ve been through, you’re old enough for a guilt free fuckin’ blowjob. What the hell, probably more,” Negan’s rough voice whispered dangerously into the dark room. “ _You_ know this is a bad idea. _I_ know this is a bad idea. But we’ve done a hell of a lot worse. Fuck it, with what we have planned tomorrow this is the least of our worries.”

Moaning as Negan slipped his boxers down, he shivered as he stroked Carl’s hard length carefully. “About time, asshole,” Carl was breathless and elated. Negan was finally giving in.

“Not going to throw a ‘sir’ at me?” Negan chuckled quietly as he leaned down, breath warm over his cock.

“I know how much you get off on it,” Carl smirked back.

With a teasing squeeze, he replied, “Shut the fuck up.”

Warm lips wrapped tightly around him. Carl bit his lip, only allowing a faint gasp to escape. The mattress shifted, groaning in protest with each stroke and bob and lick that Negan worked against Carl’s cock. His senses surrounded by the way Negan knew just how to pull moans from him but he held fast to his lip. A frenzied attempt to stay quiet so as not to get caught. Knowing his classmates were so near and feeling the tight grip of Negan’s hand on his hip brought him close too quickly.

“Negan,” he warned, voice rough and completely debased.

Negan continued, sucking harder, gripping tighter, close to pain but not enough to stop the swell of pleasure. Carl wrapped his fist in Negan’s hair and came down his throat as promised. It was too soon and not enough but the tender way that Negan continued to kiss and nip, trail to his hip, made him sigh in pure contentment.

As he pulled away, Negan positioned himself above Carl and leaned back down kissing him hard. Carl shivered as he felt him sigh against his lips. He could taste himself on Negan’s tongue and still couldn’t believe what was happening. How easy it suddenly was.

Carl lifted his hand, fingertips roamed tentatively over Negan’s shirt, low on his abdomen daring to explore. To his surprise, Negan didn’t stop him. With his heart beating fast, he pushed under the band of Negan’s boxers and wrapped his fist around his cock. So hot, he could feel the throb, grateful for the attention. Negan deepened the kiss between them.

A startling knock struck confidently against the door.

Jumping, Carl pulled his hand away and looked nervously in the direction of the disruption. “Shit,” he swore.

“Fuck,” Negan quietly pulled away from him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Carl whispered.

“Just relax,” Negan adjusted himself, hiding his erection as he stood from the bed.

Quickly arranging himself and putting on his own clothes, Carl stood next to the bed and crossed his arms nervously. He watched as Negan walked to the door.

Negan looked back at him once, making sure Carl was out of the line of sight for the door to open. Looking briefly through the peephole he swore under his breath, “Goddamn it.” Opening the door a crack, he asked with a sigh, “Is this an emergency? It better be an emergency.”

“Sorry to bother you so late.”

Carl narrowed his eyes and immediately recognized the voice of Emily Olson. The sinking feeling in his gut made him queasy but it wasn’t enough to cover the jealousy suddenly bubbling through him.

“Why aren’t you in your room?” Negan answered. "It's past curfew."

She laughed. Carl could practically see the way she undoubtedly tossed her hair back. Probably bit her lip in an attempt to look coy. “Yeah, about that. I got locked out and I couldn’t mind Mrs. Johnson. I didn’t know what to do so I thought I better come see you. I was curious about the room, too. You were telling me about it earlier.”

Negan sighed, “She’s probably just in the bathroom.” Purposefully ignoring the rest of her reason.

“I waited forever. I thought maybe you’d be able to help me out? Or,” she paused, “Maybe I could wait here until she gets back?”

Carl scoffed, narrowing his eyes. He almost walked toward the door. He wanted to tear it down to let her know that Negan already had someone to wet his dick and she could just fuck off to someone else’s room. Stepping forward, he nearly came close to doing just that when Negan pushed the door shut and leaned back toward him.

“Shut the hell up,” he mouthed silently.

Carl rolled his eye and put his hands on his hips impatiently.

Negan opened the door a crack and said, “Give me a minute, I’ll be right out.” Before waiting for a response he shut and locked the door.

“What the hell?” Carl whispered harshly.

Negan grabbed a pair of grey jeans laying over a chair and spoke in a hushed tone, “She’s only going to stay here until I get her back to the right floor. Mrs. Johnson needs to babysit her or she'll find an excuse to come right back. I’ll knock on the door if there are people out there, otherwise wait a minute until we’re gone then head back to your room.”

“Negan!” Carl protested, watching as he pulled a jacket on. “You know she just wants you to fuck her, right?”

Smiling deviously, Negan strutted in front of Carl and bit his lip suggestively. He eyed him over obviously checking him out, making Carl blush in the dark. “I love this jealous shit, it’s cute. Good thing you know first hand I don’t fuck students.”

Carl scoffed.

“Well, almost don't, anyway.”

“Negan-”

He was interrupted by Negan’s lips firm against his own. But it ended too soon. Using his thumb, Negan wiped a wet spot from Carl’s bottom lip and ordered, “Go back to your room. I’m not going to fuck you for the first time in a dorm room at Perv U anyway. When we get back we’ll celebrate.” Negan winked at him and turned around.

Carl watched as he grabbed a set of the dorm keys and walked out the door, taking care to lock it behind him.

Fuming in a silent rage, Carl waited patiently as he was told. When he determined it was safe, he pushed his hands in his pocket and quietly stormed back to his own room.

When he got there Austin was still gone which he was thankful for. He tried not to imagine what Negan was doing with Emily and got ready for bed. His anger simmered low in his mind, instead vowing to himself that he was going to hold Negan to his words after the weekend was through.


End file.
